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whosyuno · 11 months

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hotel paradise 2 (m) | ft. jung jaehyun & johnny suh

summary you visit an exclusive brothel for the second time to satisfy your needs. cw smut, oral (m&f receiving), anal, threesome, blind fold, double pen word count 3.5k a/n this... came out much filthier than i had intended it to. and also this is me recreating that "god gave me two holes for a reason" tweet (see here) chap one three

Your second visit to Hotel Paradise came after a total of eight days, eighteen hours and ten minutes from your first. You counted, but of course you counted. No one had made you feel the way Jaehyun did. It was all you could think of, the memories churned in your head day-in day-out. You had abstained from touching yourself all this time, in part due to pure exhaustion from work but mostly because you wanted to keep yourself ready for Jaehyun. This time, you had dressed for the occasion. Well, at least, under your baggy hoodie and sweatpants. You wore a matching white lingerie set under your unassuming clothes. With white lace details around your chest, a similar printed lace pattern on the high waisted panties and a corset attached, you’ve never felt sexier. Plus, you had decided to put on a fuller face of makeup than previously, -. thicker eyeliner, a bolder pink lipstick and mascara.

Slut.

Just recalling Jaehyun’s velvety voice sent excitement down your spine. You wanted to parade your body to him, make him touch you in ways you’ve never been. Most of all, you wanted him to see your efforts to impress him and call you all sorts of degrading things.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Taeyeon - the same receptionist as before - said in a small pout, “he’s currently busy. Would you-”

Before she could complete her sentence, a rich baritone voice interrupted from the middle of the spiral staircase, “I’m free.”

Your attention was instantaneously drawn by the man - which started to seem to be a repeating pattern with all the workers at Hotel Paradise. The man had his chestnut coloured hair neatly pushed back, every strand deliberately placed, and his half-lidded eyes were trailed on you as he walked down. He wore a simple loose white t-shirt and blue denim jeans, an outfit so simple but somehow managed to look like he had stepped straight out of an issue of Men’s Vogue. A blush creeped on your cheeks.

“I’m free for you,” the man was quick to reach for your hand, planting a soft peck on the back of your hand, “so won’t you choose me?”

“Johnny, you can’t-” Taeyeon began, but you had already made up your mind.

“It’s okay,” you assured her, your eyes entirely captivated by Johnny’s dark chocolate gaze, “I’ll take him.”

Your answer widened his mischievous smile. The attention that Johnny gave you was impossible to shake, a testament to his cool charisma., Your eyes remained locked with his the entire time Taeyeon was settling the administration. You hadn’t even noticed Taeyeon speaking to you until Johnny gently tugged on your now-intertwined-with-his hand, urging you towards him. But before he could whisk you away, you managed to sneak a glance at the plaque in anticipation. Johnny Suh, Blind Fold and Anal.

The short minutes spent reaching Johnny’s room - the second room to your right - felt like complete eternity as your mind filled your imagination with explicit images. Of course, you’ve never taken part in blindfold play, much less anal. Yet that ignorance only served as fuel for your excitement. You wanted to be completely ruined at the hands of a man that knew your body and, although you had hoped for Jaehyun, Johnny seemed to fit the bill.

Johnny barely gave you any chance to breathe the moment you walked into his room. He pushed you up against the corridor, even before the door was completely closed. His full lips met yours in a passionate kiss. Whereas Jaehyun was fervorous, Johnny took it slow. His lips moulded to yours entirely, allowing both you and himself to enjoy the initial kiss first before slipping his tongue in. His tongue swirled in your mouth, not in a fight for dominance but rather in a dance with yours. HIs kiss was soft and tender and almost romantic. You felt yourself melting into him.

Then, his big hands started wandering your body, caressing your every curve over your clothes.

“I want to show you what’s under this,” you breathed out against his lips.

You didn’t know how or where you got your confidence from. Perhaps it was solely empowered by wearing such lingerie, perhaps some part of you really did enjoy parading in front of men, dying to be showered in compliments and praises. You were quick to slip off your unassuming clothes, as the both of you made your way onto the bed, and not even Johnny could hide his utter shock from seeing what was under your clothes.

“Wow,” he said, eyes fixed on your body as he ran his gaze up and down, “that’s definitely staying on. Damn, you look so beautiful.” It wasn’t an everyday occasion that someone dressed to impress a brothel worker.

Pink dusted your cheeks under his intense gaze. You could visibly see cracks forming in his chivalrous and gentleman facade as a more mischievous grin spread across his face.

“On your back,” he said, “legs open.”

And you complied. Adrenaline coursed through your veins as he approached your body. His lips kissed yours, then trailed down to your jawline, then your neck to your torso before stopping just at the hem of your white panties. He adjusted himself to lay between your legs. Then, his fingers gently grazed your clothed core, the touch already enough to elicit a moan from you.

“You’re already so wet, darling,” he murmured, pulling your panties to the side. His breath served as a cool respite against your warm core.

His index finger gently traced against your wet folds, as he marvelled at the wetness that coated his finger, a thread of wetness spreading between his finger and where his finger was.

“Please,” you urged him for more, your entire body aching just to be ravished.

His index finger ran up to down along your slit, drawing the wetness upwards before lightly touching your swollen bud. Your moans encouraged him to put another finger on your clit, rubbing it in circular motions. It barely took him over a minute before he dipped both his slender fingers into you, stretching you out. His fingers were much longer than yours, hitting new spots that you’ve never felt. Lewd noises of his fingers pumping into your wet cunt filled the room. He replaced the attention on your clit with his tongue, twirling and sucking on the delicate bud of nerves. He didn’t try to rush things, instead relishing in how unravelled you became through half-lidded eyes. He watched with utmost attention how you’d buck your hips when his tongue hit a nice spot, how your fingers balled up the sheets with each methodical thrust of his fingers and how your voice got gradually louder. His other free hand managed to reach your breast, his fingers gently toying with your erect nipple through the thin lace fabric. The gentle tugs and rolling at your nipple set your body on fire as a new wave of sensitivity washed through you.

Overwhelmed by the surge in pleasure, you could only retaliate in soft whimpers and pleas for more. Your heavenly moans spurred Johnny on; he wanted to watch you completely fall apart by his touches. It didn’t take him long before he slipped a third finger into you, this time drawing out a more primal mewl from you, an indication of your impending orgasm. With a curl of his fingers hitting your sweetest spot, you came undone. Your orgasm washed over you, resulting in your hips bucking and grinding themselves against Johnny’s face. Meanwhile, he was more focussed on lapping up the delicious gush of nectar from between your legs.

“Now, for the other hole,” Johnny said with glee, prying himself from your body as he reached for the lube lined up with a silk eye mask by the bedside desk.

Your eyes widened at that suggestion, and Johnny caught that.

“First time?”

You nodded. Fear crept into your mind at the prospect of a new experience, but it was quickly silenced by Johnny’s words.

“Don’t worry,” Johnny said, pouring an excessive amount of a clear and sweet-smelling liquid all over his fingers, “I’ll show you a good time.”

He winked as he tossed the bottle of lube back to the bedside table. You felt heat rising to your cheeks again.

“Get on all fours for me, darling,” Johnny instructed.

You obeyed, flipping yourself on to your elbows and knees before arching your back. He took his clean hand and caressed your bottom. Again, he adjusted your panties more, now revealing your butthole.

“Now, just relax,” he said, his fingers spreading out the cool liquid all over your puckered hole.

He pushed his thumb in and the foreign sensation had you gasping out loud. Now, it wasn’t painful. But it felt… different. A new feeling that you’ve never experienced.

“Shh…” Johnny cooed, “relax.”

You try your best to relax, and to welcome his thumb into you.

“You’re doing so well now babygirl,” Johnny said pushing his thumb deeper in., “such a good girl, that’s it.”

And just hearing his sweet compliments made you want to follow through with this experience. The initial fear melted into eagerness and curiosity. You braced yourself for more impact. Johnny slowly started thrusting his thumb in and out and you tried to remain as relaxed as humanly possible. It took you a while but soon, you got used to the new sensation. Your squirms had begun slowly turning into soft moans. That gave Johnny the cue to push another lubed up finger in. This time, you took it in much better than the first time. The foreign sensation had begun melding with pleasure so form its own brand of delight. Still, despite your moans, Johnny didn’t try to rush things. But you weren’t willing to wait. By the time he managed to comfortably fit his third finger, you were moaning and pleading for his cock. A free hand of yours began playing with your nipple to supplement his delay. You couldn’t and didn’t want to wait anymore.

“Please Johnny, I want your cock in me now.”

Hearing those words were enough to get Johnny riled up. He was patient, but he wasn’t that patient. He was quick to undress, slip on a condom and retrieve the bottle of lube, pouring a copious amount all over his length.

“Please,” you whined. You ached to be filled, you had waited over a week for this.

He chuckled, “Alright princess. I ain’t going anywhere. But first… this.”

He handed you a silk eye mask.

“Put it on.”

As if your desperation wasn’t already clear, you pulled the eye mask over your face obediently - willing to do anything that would get his dick in you. With your vision gone, it felt like you had to strain your other senses just to anticipate Johnny’s movements. Was he approaching you? Or was he teasingly watching you? You couldn’t tell.

“No peeking.”

Just then, Johnny pulled you over the edge of the bed. He adjusted your limbs, so that your legs were tucked towards your chest, and, without a warning, lifted your body up by wrapping his arms around your body and through the underside of your thighs. His sudden action drew a yelp from you, but he was quick to whisper an apology in your ear. You’re unsure if it was the eye mask heightening your other senses but his baritone voice next to your ear sent shivers down your body. He’s careful as he slid his cock into your puckered hole, but it didn't stop the waves of almost-painlike pleasure as you stretched yourself to fit him. Moans had turned into semi-screams, still you enjoyed it. Tears were quick to prick your eyes but were immediately absorbed by the soft fabric.

“You're doing so good, you’re taking me in so well,” Johnny continually repeated in your ear. Each word sent a small wave of pleasure right to your core.

It took a moment for you to adjust to Johnny’s cock. His cock wasn’t as long as Jaehyun’s but his girth more than sufficiently made up for the difference. It was still quite a feat to take his entire cock in your ass, but with some time and with Johnny’s praises, you finally swallowed his whole length.

“I’m gonna start, alright?”

You nodded, already giddy in lust. Johnny’s thrusts started out slow; a combination of lifting you higher up in the air as well as rocking his hips into you. Again, he showed his patience gauging your response obsequiously.

“You’re so fucking tight,” his whispers had turned into harsh groans, “You make me feel so fucking good.”

You felt yourself melting into Johnny, the new experience completely overwhelmed you as each thrust pushed you closer and closer to the edge of something unfamiliar. Your stream of noises became increasingly strained. Pleasure overwhelmed your system so much so that you didn’t notice a new pair of hands holding your thighs. Not until you hear a delightfully familiar voice in your ear.

“You’re such a greedy little cockslut.”

But there was barely any time to react, Jaehyun had pushed himself into your dripping wet and aching cunt. New tears sprung in your eyes at the impact. Your arms flew instinctively to the figure before you, balancing your body on the shoulders of Jaehyun. He leaned into your embrace, his head nestling in the crook of your neck as he teethed the skin below your ear. You’re almost completely certain that he’d leave bruised red and purple marks in his wake, but you didn’t have the energy to protest his doing. The combined sensation of being filled up both from the front and the back was enough to tip you over into another orgasm.

“Wait-” Words could barely leave your lips before your body convulsed in lust-driven pleasure. Your nails dug into Jaehyun’s shoulders as your entire body quaked involuntarily.

Johnny obliged in your protests, opting to sing praises by your right ear, “That’s right, cum for us baby. You’re doing so well princess.”

In the other ear, Jaehyun berated you with jealous venom dripping from his words. “Did you cum from me just thrusting in? You’re such a whore. And now, I guess you like getting fucked in the ass by other guys, don’t you?”

The mixed message from each side of your ears reignited the knot in your core. Johnny removed his length from your ass, carefully placing you back down on the bed, on your back, while Jaehyun took this transition time to ram himself into you, without much thought or concern for your recent orgasm. You enjoyed the way his cock buried so deeply within you, even more so when your walls were still clenching down tightly around Jaehyun. A new fear sprang as the orgasm ripped through your body. You weren’t used to this new side of yourself, one who took great gratification in being used and teased by the men of Hotel Paradise. Everything they did from the foreign to the familiar all felt so fucking good, you weren’t sure how much pleasure a human body could take before it broke completely. But you liked it. You were willing to test the limits.

“You liked that, didn't you? Getting fucked by two guys at once?” Jaehyun’s words made you flush with shame. “Maybe I should just call everyone in here.”

“You’re too much, Jae,” you heard Johnny say, “she looked so pretty cumming on both our dicks. Wasn’t that why you wanted to join?”

Jaehyun didn’t answer him.

“Anyways,” Johnny said as he straddled your face, careful to not put his entire weight on you, “you have to agree that she looks so much better with two dicks in her, isn’t that right?”

You felt Johnny’s cock slap against your cheek once, before a pressure against your lips. You could still smell the residual sweet smell coating his length as you took Johnny into your mouth. You struggled with it because the girth had almost completely dominated all the space in your mouth, with little to no space for airways. Oxygen quickly became a luxury as Johnny moved his hips. Your fingers dug into his thigh with one hand, hoping to adjust his cock in a manner where you could breathe. Instead, Johnny only shoved his length deeper down your throat, forcing drool and spit to gather and spill. An ache had already begun to form in your jaw, solely from accommodating Johnny.

With both men thrusting into you, you couldn’t stop yourself from writhing in pure euphoria. There was no stopping either man, they both worked at their own pace. Jaehyun’s hips were animalistic and with vengeance, whilst Johnny’s cock slowly buried any moans into the back of your throat, opting to relish at the sight of your face stuffed with his dick. His thrusts, although not fast, were deep enough that its outline could be seen from your throat. Johnny’s free hands toyed with your nipples, which only brought you closer to another release.

“She’s grinding her hips down like a greedy little slut,” you heard Jaehyun saying amidst pants and grunts, “I think she’s gonna cum soon.” Jaehyun flicked your swollen clit which caused you to flinch with a loud muffled moan. He laughed at your response.

“D’you wanna cum?” Johnny asked, caressing one cheek with his hand. “Shall we cum together, darling?”

You nodded with enthusiasm. You couldn’t help it, every touch, sensation, painful or not, felt good to you.

You hit your orgasm, first of the three. Whining and groaning and writhing in utter pleasure against the two men, but none of them stopped through your mind-numbing orgasm. Instead, Jaehyun thrusted deeper and harder into your spasming core, taking complete advantage of the tightness to chase his own orgasm. His orgasm came a few seconds after yours. Not much longer after that, Johnny’s breathing started to get increasingly shallower. With one last deep thrust, pinning your head into the bed, warmth slayed down your throat in intervals as Johnny rode out his orgasm in your throat. You choked on his cum, tightening around his cock in the process, which caused Johnny to bury his cock deeper into your throat. It wasn’t until Jaehyun pointed out that you needed to breathe that Johnny flopped off of you and onto the bed, beside you.

You thought it was finally over when Jaehyun slipped the eye mask off your face. The sudden brightness of the room blinded you for a moment and it took several blinks for your eyes to adjust. From white blinding vision to a soft glow, you finally laid eyes on the lovely face of Jaehyun. His eyes were dark, swirling with more than lust and it seemed he wasn’t done with you just yet.

His fingers, soft but firm, directed your gaze to the full body mirror at a corner of the room, and you saw, for the first time, how the two men had completely messed you up.

Dark blueish black streaks from your mascara ran down your face, drool had coated the entire sides of your lips and dripped all the way down your chin and your lipstick had shifted to a smear that the joker would be envious of. Worse of all, you saw in the mirror your desire to be completely subservient to the whims of the men in the room.

“Look at how pretty my cumslut looks,” Jaehyun said, his smirk widening at the sight in the mirror.

The difference between Jaehyun and Johnny became more obvious as Jaehyun yanked off your panties: where Johnny was romantic and enjoyed the art of dressing in lingerie, Jaehyun was more practical. He pushed you forward, so that your arse was up. There was no teasing, no need for pleading as Jaehyun buried himself deep within your cunt. You watched as desperation contorted your face. Jaehyun held your hips firm with one hand, and another squeezed the fullness of your butt, marvelling in your figure before thrusting into you at a brutal pace.

You locked eyes with him in the mirror, his eyes too fixated on the pornographic scene playing out. You found a new warmth swirling at the pits of your core, it was almost voyeuristic watching the mirror. You caught Johnny laying further back on the bed and although he didn’t attempt touching you, you see him stroking his cock at the sight before him. Your brain felt entirely too foggy and overrun by lewd desires that you weren’t even able to construct a coherent thought. Pure animalistic mewls and moans escaped your lips, the sight of you reduced to a puddle of mess served as aphrodisiac.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed since you entered the room, only that now your legs were trembling, numb and weak. You could barely feel your toes when another orgasm ripped through your system, this one serving as your limit. Your vision hazy and your mind swaying, you fell forward but Jaehyun held you firm. His orgasm, too, came an instant later.

You collapsed on the bed, mind blank and completely drained of every ounce of energy, and shortly after drifted into a long slumber.

The next time you opened your eyes, you had been tucked into the bed, your sullied lingerie swapped out for a comfy bathrobe and laying by your side was Jaehyun.

“Morning love.”

You smiled, basking in his attention. “Morning.”

#jaehyun smut #johnny smut #nct smut #jaehyun #nct #johnny #mine

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sitp-recs · 23 days

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Thank you so much for your recs—they are fantastic! I wondered if you had any for Draco and Harry becoming friends at (and eventual lovers) at Hogwarts (doesn’t have to start with 1st year, but can!). Thank you!!

Hi there! Happy you’re enjoying the recs 😊 I got a couple recs, the majority is 8th year since I don’t really read canon rewrite AUs. I hope you enjoy these!

Thermodynamic Equilibrium by DorthyAnn (T, 5k)

Harry's far too hot. Draco's always cold. And somehow against all odds, together they create a perfect equilibrium.

Good Company by Greenflares (T, 8k)

With Hermione and Ron always together, Harry's return to Hogwarts to complete his education isn't exactly fun. Somehow, it's his unlikely friendship with Malfoy that keeps him sane.

Stand Back: I'm About to Perform Archaeology by Blowfish_Diaries (E, 10k)

A new Muggle Studies professor takes the Eighth Year students to work on an archaeological excavation. In which Draco is lazy, Harry is sweaty, Hermione is drunk, and Ron turns red.

Nice Things by aideomai (M, 22k)

The first thing that happened was Theodore Nott came back from France.

Makes Me Stronger by Lomonaaeren (E, 29k)

Rita Skeeter’s Harry James Potter: An Unnatural History is a best-seller, mostly due to the fact that Skeeter’s collaborated with a photographer who’s infused the pictures in the book with Harry’s actual memories. As Harry struggles to survive the storm consuming his eighth year at Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy becomes an unexpected ally.

On Our Way by evils (E, 30k)

Draco is trying to spend the summer keeping his head down, but a repair project and a certain snowy owl have other plans for him.

Eager for the Sky by @oknowkiss (E, 35k)

It was announced, just as the Triwizard Tournament had been, at the start of term feast. A year-long, international Quidditch varsity match — the inaugural Wizarding Academy Cup. In which Harry is Hogwarts' star Seeker, Draco is on the bench, and they both have a thing or two to learn about playing for the same team.

Like Lightning at Your Fingertips by potterwatch (T, 43k)

The problem with living with another insomniac is, eventually, they find out you’re one, too. When Harry and Draco return for their eighth year, they think they’ll see very little of each other. Then McGonagall assigns them to room together. And the castle starts breaking. And there’s that thing with Potter’s magic.

The July Tree by @oknowkiss (E, 51k)

Neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, nor hail… nor well-meaning friends, nor questionable communication skills, nor seven years of hating each other’s guts can keep Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy from falling in love.

The Promise of Summer by Omi_Ohmy (M, 67k)

How was Harry supposed to know that coming back for eighth year would be so confusing? Everything is the same, and yet not the same. And nowhere is this more obvious than with Draco Malfoy. Harry finds himself once more watching and following Malfoy, trying to work him out. When they are drawn together to heal the castle, Harry doesn’t just find Malfoy - he also finds himself.

Azoth by @lol-zeitgeistic (E, 88k)

Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy trying not to be in love with Malfoy to care.

Helix by Saras_Girl (E, 93k)

Seven months after the end of the war, Harry is feeling lost. Fortunately, he is about to be offered an unexpected and sparkling chance to find himself again.

Changing Tides by carpemermaid (E, 109k)

Draco has spent half of his life spouting the things his father has taught him without much thought about how he feels about what he says. When he unexpectedly comes face to face with the Dark Lord, he grapples with the harsh realities of the world and struggles with his changing views on life.

Written on the Heart by who_la_hoop (E, 114k)

Unnerved by the attention he’s attracting from everyone – the Slytherins are the least of it, to be fair – and struggling with a raft of changes to Hogwarts itself, Harry wishes he could be happy that one constant remains: Draco Malfoy really fucking hates him.

Twist of Fate by Oakstone730 (T, 300k)

Draco asks Harry to help him beat the Imperius curse during 4th year. The lessons turn into more than either expected. A story of redemption and forgiveness.

#asks #magtops #Drarry reclist #8th year friends to lovers #slow burn

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ominous-auburn-orbs · 5 months

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What if Caine gives Kinger a really cool bug and then Kinger gives him a little kiss

Of course! Tis a classic scenario with this ship.

Caine was listening to Kinger ramble about insects again. He was always amazed by the other's extensive and impressive knowledge. Although, he always felt a pang of sympathy every time he remembered that there were no insects in the circus. Nothing in the code detailed any creatures at all, save for NPCs and the players.

"-and that's how they all evolved to look like their environment!" Caine was drawn back into the conversation- mostly one-way, but he didn't mind- by Kinger finishing his infodump. He felt a bit guilty about losing focus, despite how much he loved the sound of Kinger's voice, especially when he was this happy.

"That's incredibly fascinating, Kinger! I'm impressed with how you're able to retain so much information about these insect collections." Of course, retaining and retelling information was the easiest thing for an AI like Caine. Everything was in his memory and remained there, never changing. Yet he knew how difficult it was for humans to do the same.

"Why, thank you, Caine. I don't remember a lot about anything anymore, to be honest. It would probably be a bit easier to get my details in order if there were any actual insect collections here, heh." Kinger tried to keep the disappointed tone out of his voice. He didn't want to make Caine feel guilty about it or anything, it's not like it was his fault. The circus just didn't have any use for insects. So there were none.

The ringmaster didn't want Kinger to be left wanting. He had to do something about it. The chess piece almost never outwardly complained about anything, which was a large contrast from the rest of the troop, but Caine knew he was unsatisfied. He might not be able to give him, or anyone for that matter, the one thing they truly wanted, but he could always try the next best thing.

"Wait here for a moment, my dear! I believe I can procure something that'll fix all of your worries." Caine clicked his fingers and teleported away to a vast area that stored the game's code. It was akin to the void, save he actually knew what was here. As he started looking for the right strings of binary and words, it hit him that his task may take a bit longer than anticipated.

He clicked his fingers again and appeared in front of Kinger once more. "Perhaps you should just go about your day instead, my dear. I'll fetch you when I'm done."

Kinger was rather confused about what Caine was talking about, but his warm smile assured him that it was nothing bad. "Alright, Caine. I'll just be in my room, if you want to get me." He affectionately petted the ringmaster's head before leaving. It left a pleasantly warm feeling in Caine's chest, serving as a reminder as to why he would go through this struggle for him. It's not like he wouldn't do something like this for any of his performers, but Kinger was always a special case.

Going back to the coding room, Caine set to work. He went primarily off of what Kinger had told him, although he did have to do some research for the finer details. Once he had finished the model, he began to code its mannerisms. He was rather thankful that he had realised earlier on how long it would take. Kinger probably would've stayed standing there for hours on end. The thought did bring a smile to his face, since he would definitely do the same.

Finally, the bug was finished. It was a brightly coloured caterpillar and was wrapped around Caine's hand. Its smiling face and clown-like shoes were probably inaccurate to what Kinger was used to, but it did fit the circus' environment better. He had even made a small enclosure for the bug, with everything it would need to survive and thrive. The hardest part was definitely giving it the correct life cycle. It would never die, obviously, but it would one day have to become a butterfly. Caine could already picture Kinger's excitement when it would emerge from its chrysalis. But he was getting far too ahead of himself. The first step was to deliver it.

Gently lowering the caterpillar into its enclosure, he tucked it under his arm and clicked his fingers, going back to the circus tent. He shifted the enclosure to be held behind his back and floated down the nearby corridor to Kinger's room.

When he reached the chess piece's door, Caine knocked a rhythmic tempo before returning his hand to its spot behind him. After about a minute of waiting, the door opened a crack. A large blue eye stared out at him. Caine was mesmorised by it for a moment before remembering what he was supposed to be doing.

"Kinger, my dear, I've brought you something! May I come in?" The door opened fully and Kinger gestured for him to enter.

"Oh, you really didn't have to. You know I don't need anything from you, except you yourself." His eyes did their best to show his loving smile, which Caine returned.

"But I wanted to make this for you." Holding the enclosure out in front of him, Caine heard Kinger let out a quiet gasp. "I know how much you love your insects, so I thought I'd make one for you. It's admittedly not a collection, but it can become one! If you want it to, that is."

Kinger crouched down to be eye level with the rectangular box. The colourful caterpillar crawled out from a pile of twigs and leaves, smiling at him. "Oh my God... thank you, Caine. It- it's beautiful."

The chess piece wiped at his eyes to remove the brewing tears. Caine had coded in an entire insect, which the circus wasn't even meant to have in the first place. No wonder he had been gone so long. Kinger was amazed at how much effort the ringmaster would put in just to make him happy.

"You're more than welcome, my love. It was my pleasure." He handed the enclosure to Kinger, who took it inside his fortress and sat it down on a table within, before re-emerging back in front of Caine.

Caine floated up to Kinger's level. The chess piece cupped Caine's face with his hand, staring into his eyes, unsure of how to word how grateful he was. Instead, he chose to pull the ringmaster closer, pressing their faces together for a short while before pulling away. He could hear prolonged glitching noises omitting from Caine while his face overheated, making him giggle.

"Come on, let's see what the caterpillar's doing." Caine let out a noise of agreement that was somewhere between a laugh and a panting exhale. The two went inside the fortress and sat on the floor in front of the table that held up the enclosure, watching the caterpillar wander its surroundings. Who knows how long they sat there, but neither cared. They were happy in each other's presence, and that was all they needed.

"So, do you want to name it something?" Caine's question surprised Kinger, making him yelp. Regaining his composure, the chess piece hummed in thought, inspecting the bug before him.

"Hmm... Jerome." He nodded after he said it, confirming that it sounded right to him.

"Jerome?" A hint of laughter found its way into Caine's voice. That hadn't been quite what he was expecting.

"What? Is it not a good name?"

"Oh no, it's a lovely name!" The ringmaster rested his head on Kinger's shoulder. "Its name shall be Jerome."

Kinger put his hand on Caine's shoulder and rubbed gently. Despite his lack of a mouth, his cheeks still felt phantom pain from his smiling.

#caine x kinger #royalteeth #kinger x caine #kingleader #this one's really long whoops-#Jerome is an inside joke that I'm not explaining

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yuckydraws · 8 months

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(Click for better quality)

Teddy Bear is here!

(CW: Mentions of Horrortale underground & PTSD)

Few Word Characteristics

Quiet

Generous

Gentle (most of the time)

Resourceful

Protective

Introverted

Loyal

Forgetful

Slow to Trust

Inattentive

Information on his design (+ not shown, but still important info)

His time during the famine without food, eating non-magical food, and his head injury caused his magic to be unstable - which led to his body having a sort of forced magical growth spurt. He's 7'3" (221 cm), and has a big-boned, sturdy build.

This drastic change in his body as well as years of fights and repeated minor injuries, has left him with chronic pain. It usually flares up in his head and knees, but he's dealt with it almost everywhere.

His magic is still unstable, but his ecto-body has mostly recovered from the famine. He's even developed a bit of a belly in his joyful enjoyment of food on the surface.

His notebook is always on hand. His injury has caused him to have all sorts of issues, but mostly with his speech and memory. He uses his notes in his notebook to remember things. It's helped him a lot in his recovery, but he still has to reference it often.

His PTSD mixed with the effects of his head injury, leads him to have episodes in moments of high stress, being met with a trigger, or when having a painful migraine. These episodes vary from him being quiet and completely spaced out, to him being violent and angry. No matter which type, he's always exhausted and feeling guilty afterwards. Tilly is the one who is consistently able to pull him out of them.

Mentally he's made lots of progress as well - but he still, and likely always will, have his struggles.

The decaying atmosphere, dust-filled air & living conditions of the underground left his bones an off-white grey sort of color.

In times of stress or during an episode, he often picks at his socket in an attempt to ground himself - the bone there is chipped and sensitive.

He's amazing with animals, they seem to be naturally drawn to him. This, and his want to have his own self-sufficient farm drew him to try out raising chickens. They're more his pets now, than anything, but the household uses their eggs. They're named Nugget, Henrietta, Cluck, Chicken, and Peep. He would like to raise goats as well, but hasn't gotten Tilly and Sans to agree to the idea.

Speaking of animals, he's got an adorable rescue pup, named Dog. She absolutely adores Bear and he spoils her rotten.

He hates the stares he gets in public. So, he often wears a beanie in public to hide his injury. He still gets stares because of his large stature, but at least he's not inviting unwanted interactions or constantly feeling judged.

His eye-light often gives away what he's feeling, and tends to be more expressive than he is.

He's still Sans, deep down. You will never catch him in uncomfortable clothes.

He's got an impressive garden, that he tends to everyday of the season. He likes to challenge himself with difficult-to-grow plants, and enjoys having an abundance of fresh food on hand. He also tends to the grounds of the large skele-house. It keeps him busy since he can't work, and helps him feel like he's contributing to the household.

He's got a short, stubby tail, that has been deemed a weapon by some housemates of his who have gotten in the way of it's wagging before.

He's not much of a gamer, but he discovered Nintendogs and became hooked. You can occasionally find him grinning down at his borrowed DS as he plays it.

#yucky yaks #yucky writes #headcannons #yucky draws #my art shit #character ref #horrortale #undertale #ht sans #bear

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mazeinthemiroh · 2 years

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Hello! i was wondering how Ateez would act around their s/o before they start dating? (So a crush au hehe) thank you!

how ateez act around their crush

genre: fluff

word count: 0.8k

warnings: none

pls like and reblog if you enjoyed! feel free to request anything <3

hongjoong

i see hongjoong as being very smiley and confident around his crush. he always tries to initiate conversations with them as a way of getting to know and spending more time with them. he's not one to stand on the sidelines and admire them from afar. he's mostly confident in himself and while he gives them shy smiles he always finds himself coming back for more. as a way of getting closer to them, he gently teases you about things and strives to make them laugh. he's just so good at finding common ground.

seonghwa

he is more on the shy side but he doesn't show it as much as some of the other members. he will just be all smiles and give his crush starry eyes without even knowing it. when in conversation with his crush, he would always find ways to weave in compliments here and there. this isn't part of his plan and through no volition of his own, but he can't stop praising them for whatever they have done. or saying, quietly and softly, how pretty they look today. i think his sickly sweet attempts make his crush very evident.

yunho

in his mind, he treats his crush the same as he would any other human being. but as time goes by he realises that he is incorrect. he notices different changes: sweaty hands, warm cheeks, the unbearable, incurable need to make them laugh, because oh god does he love their laugh. so without even knowing it, his go-to tactic, despite being a bit of a shy boy, he will use his confidence in his humour to make them happy around him. and his heart flutters every time they giggle at one of his jokes <///3

yeosang

now he is the shyest out of them. he doesn't really know what to do with himself but he usually catches himself staring at his crush for wayyyy too long, making it evident to the people around him that he has eyes for this one particular person. and he'll probably get caught staring too rhbdbdnskdhbd. yeosang having a conversation with his crush is the cutest thing to ever witness; he has a shy but beaming smile on his face as he listens to what his crush has to say in absolute fascination.

san

i feel like when san has his mind set on something, or someone, he likes to just go for it head first with no regrets! so he likes being open and tries to show off his best qualities to his crush. he wants to impress them! and i think his feelings for his crush would be fairly obvious because of how much he singles them out. he would always go up to them first, for instance. also, san would want to initiate any physical touch in his relationship with them. so he might randomly wrap an arm around their shoulder and pull them closer to him as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

mingi

mingi is insanely giggly around his crush. he's so freaking adorable i can't breathe right now. he wants to be more playful and bubbly with his crush. he's always trying to avoid eye contact with them but he also wants to look at them a lot because they're so prettyyyyyy and so he ends up making eye contact a lot which he gets super flustered by, it's actually hilarious to watch. his ears turn bright red and he has a massive grin on his face. he feels like a shy schoolboy. he has no idea why he's acting the way he does when he's around them until he realises his feelings.

wooyoung

wooyoung treats his crush like he would treat his best friend. he'll tease them relentlessly. he likes the banter he shares with them. his natural charisma makes it hard for people not to be drawn to his personality, despite him saying that his personality is 'a bit rough woof'. he'll also make excuses to be with them and spend more time together, to the point where they become suspicious of his feelings for you. he wants to share things with his crush and make memories with them early on so that when they look back on their time with him you can draw from many experiences.

jongho

is another one who wants to impress his crush. he just doesn't know how to go about it. so he will try to use his social skills to the best of his ability. he may be one of the quietest but he has a lot of spirit and a lot of charm. he's got a mixture of being really confident and also the shyest person on earth. i can see him being daring, looking deep into his crush's eyes as they speak to him, and make some jokes here and there. or he will be reluctant to even look at them in the eyes once. there's no in-between, it depends on what type of person they are or if he is aware of his feelings for them yet.

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sixhours · 3 months

Text

Chapter 4 - The Ghosts of Babylon

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut and violence Series tags: Joel Miller x You, Joel Miller x Reader, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, LGBTQ+ characters, y/n is bi/pan, y/n is ~45, violence, pregnancy, abortion, medical trauma, emotional trauma, panic attacks, sex work, suicide, smut, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, romance, no use of y/n, reader has longish hair, Joel can lift you, smallish age gap (~11 years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

~*~

Jackson welcomed you with open arms.

They found you on the other side of Elk River, as you expected. It was easy to play the part of the weary traveler because that’s what you were for the six-weeks-on-foot trek from Kansas City to Jackson. When they sat you down in the interrogation room, you didn’t have to lie about the arduous journey. You turned in your weapons willingly and they didn’t ask to search your bag, which was fortunate–most of your cargo was repurposed radio equipment.

You got the impression the people of Jackson weren’t especially concerned about FEDRA’s influence. Being a thousand miles from the nearest QZ probably had that effect. What they didn’t know was that FEDRA had been setting up outposts for years; dotted along the highways, creating rough paths for delivery routes between the QZs, often cloaked as run-down gas stations or abandoned radio towers. The FEDRA network had grown slowly and stealthily thanks to people like you.

You were offered a home in exchange for work, given the pick of several empty houses that had been cleared for resettlement. You chose a light green, two-story cottage, drawn by the old-fashioned TV antenna springing prominently from the rooftop. That would come in handy.

You joined the town’s only other doctor, a 76-year-old man named Eric, at the tiny clinic just off Main Street and saw plain relief in the man’s eyes on your first day of work. It was clear they needed your experience. They didn’t have much compared to the hospitals in the QZ, but the clinic was efficient and clean.

It was a straightforward assignment and you slipped into a familiar pattern: Ask around, ingratiate yourself to the community, find the people who made the decisions, and then…listen. You’ve learned that it rarely takes coercion to get people to talk here.

~*~

You sigh and drop your pen on the workbench, rolling your head on your shoulders. It’s two in the morning, and you have to be up at 5:30 to take over for the night shift, but you already know you won’t be able to sleep. You’re not used to it yet. Jackson is too quiet, too easy, too safe . Like a mirage in the desert, you keep waiting for it to evaporate into thin air, and yet, a month into this assignment…it’s still here.

You’d told your superiors about the girl on a hunch, and now they want more information. It’s not unusual for you to be asked to dig deeper into an individual, but you’ve never targeted someone so young. You suspect she’s the kid of some high-level Firefly but you don’t ask questions, you never do.

You spin slowly around in the creaking office chair, surveying the dormered attic where you’ve set up the radio and recorder. It’s filled with someone else’s memories, the usual forgotten fodder. Old trunks of graying yellow linens, a broken bicycle, a moldy dress dummy, and dozens of boxes packed with papers and books. Occasionally you paw through the latter looking for reading material–not that you’ve had much time to read.

Tonight your eyes settle on a box near the foot of the workbench, and you begin leafing through it, flicking aside dusty exam papers and report cards, drawings, construction paper turkeys and candy canes.

At the bottom of the box, you unearth a short stack of comic books. You take them out, brushing a thick layer of dust off the top, revealing the first cover: a monstrous creature with white wrinkled skin over a bright red mouth and four sharp teeth. The next book has a glowing UFO soaring across the starry sky and what looks like a fetus in a test tube, and the third shows a ghostly smeared handprint on a window.

You wrinkle your nose but tuck the comics under your arm, thinking they might be the kind of thing a 15-year-old would enjoy.

~*~

In the days after meeting Ellie and her father, you do some research. The pair first arrived in Jackson last winter, then promptly disappeared, the circumstances surrounding their departure mysterious enough to become a source of gossip. They reappeared the following spring, but no one can tell you where they’d been.

You learn that Joel works as a contractor and patrolman. He’s surprisingly well-connected in the Jackson hierarchy as Maria’s brother-in-law. He’s respected, but not exactly well-liked; he’s too reserved for that. You know he has an itchy trigger finger and a short temper, and the prominent opinion among many in Jackson is that his daughter is one of his few redeeming qualities.

And you know you don’t stand a chance of getting close to her without gaining Joel’s trust.

You’re turning this over in your mind during your shower one morning, staring at the water-stained floor in your tiny bathroom when you have a flash of inspiration.

~*~

Joel is visibly surprised to see you at his door that evening. His eyes widen, then narrow in suspicion.

“Just wanted to check in on my patient. How’s she feeling?”

He sucks in a breath, staring down at you with a sneer like you’ve crossed some deeply personal line.

“She’s fine,” he says.

“Joel?”

Ellie pokes her head out the door and sees you standing there with the comic books in your hands. Her eyes go wide. “Is that for me?”

“Hey,” you smile. “And yeah, I found these in my attic and thought–”

The girl shoves her way past Joel before you can finish, grabbing the books from your hands. She flips through the pages, frowning. “Aww man, I was hoping it was…something else. But these look cool.”

“I think this was some sci-fi show back in the 90’s,” you shrug. “I used to watch reruns. Seemed like the kind of thing you’d be into. If you like them, let me know. There may be more up there.”

“They look gross,” she beams at the cover with the white fanged monster, and you decide that’s a mark of praise.

“You done?” Joel snaps, still glaring at you.

“Actually, I have a question for you,” you say, turning back to him. “May I come in?”

Another pause, long enough for Ellie to dig an elbow into the man’s side. “C’mon, man. She’s a doctor . What’s she gonna do, bandage us to death?”

You smirk at this, raising your eyebrows in a silent question.

Joel makes a low sound in his throat. “Fine.”

The house is warm; spartan, but tidy. Not the bachelor-pad-slash-teenage wasteland you’d expected. You step into a small living room with an overstuffed leather couch, a small fireplace, and a coffee table. It smells like pine wood and fresh coffee.

Before you can look around, Joel is standing in front of you, broad-shouldered and scowling.

“So, I heard you’re a contractor,” you begin.

He blinks, expression blank, not offering anything further.

“And I…might have a job for you,” you continue. “My kitchen has some water damage on the back wall and ceiling. The bathroom floor feels soft, and I’m worried it’s not structurally sound.”

“Jobs go through the labor committee,” he says flatly. “Take it up with them.”

You wrinkle your nose. “I know…but it’s such a small thing. I don’t want to waste the committee’s time if it turns out to be nothing. And I don’t even need a builder, necessarily, just someone to take a look at the damage and confirm that my tub’s not going to fall into my kitchen next time I take a bath.”

Another long pause, Ellie looking back and forth between you as the pause unfurls into awkward silence.

“Ugh, he’ll do it,” she says to you.

“Ellie–” he growls a warning.

“God, and you say I have no social skills,” she mutters. “Just fuckin’ do it, Joel. Go help the lady with her kitchen or whatever.”

“Kid–”

“She saved my life, right?”

Joel rolls his eyes. “She didn’t–”

“And didn’t you try to, like, shoot her?”

He glares at you before turning back to her. “I didn’t–”

You watch this exchange with fascination, the easy way the young girl neatly dances around his protests.

She smacks him lightly on the arm. “When do you want him?”

The question is so abrupt, it takes you a hot second to realize she’s asking you to name a date. “Tomorrow? I have a shift until 7 but I can take a break to show you my place.”

Joel seethes at Ellie, but she grins, entirely unintimidated.

“Fine,” he mutters through gritted teeth. “Tomorrow. Five.”

“Great. It’s on Coburn, the third house on the left.”

He nods but doesn’t say anything further.

“Guess I’ll show myself out, then,” you say, turning back to the door. As it shuts behind you, you overhear Joel’s low growl.

“What the hell’d you do that for?”

Ellie’s laugh is the only response.

#the last of us hbo #the last of us #fanfic #joel and ellie #ellie williams #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you

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bluegekk0 · 2 months

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how alive is grimm's cloak? does it mostly just react to basic emotions or is it like intelligent? could like someone talk to it and it respond? could it also fuss or take nightmare essence??? im curious haha

I go into some detail about this in this post, but basically it's an extension of Grimm's consciousness, the same way his physical body is, though much less developed.

To explain a bit: the being known as Grimm has two main forms. The first one is the form in the Nightmare Realm, which is his birth form, known as The Nightmare, and later as The Nightmare King. The second one is his physical form, known as Troupe Master Grimm, and it's the form he creates from Nightmare Essence to walk in the physical world (the ritual is him replacing the body, as The Nightmare Heart, which is basically where his power is stored, is too weak to create a permanent physical form). The cloak is like an extension of the second form, the physical body, but it can move independently whenever he's not around, so it's almost like a third form.

It's replaced during every ritual just like the physical form, but it's not as developed as it. It can respond to Grimm's emotions, though if he's feeling conflicted, it may behave unpredictably. It shares his memories and knowledge, and so responds accordingly to those around him - it's gentle with his loved ones, and visibly "irritated" around his enemies. It can't speak, but it does seem to listen to spoken words. As an example, as you can see in the drawing in the link I posted, FPK can ask it to hold something for him, and in general it seems very drawn to him, curling and reaching towards him, very clearly sharing Grimm's affection for him.

As for its interactions with Grimm, since they're connected on a subconscious level, he can control it freely. It can form into tendrils, spikes and even limb-like shapes. It's very clearly not of natural origins, since it can harden and soften unlike anything in their world. It's strong enough to lift up Grimm, but whenever it's in a relaxed form, it acts basically like a regular cloak. Grimm can use it as extra limbs to hold something (with his fondness for tea, it comes in very handy - it can hold the cup of tea while he's working, freeing his hands), but also as weapons and a shield. The cloak instinctively protects him and those around him, it can form into spikes or claw-like shapes, and it's able to expand to a very impressive length, giving him quite a range of attack.

Aside from that, it usually just functions as a piece of clothing, he can wear it or take it off and hang it on the wall, and aside from slightly moving on its own, it wouldn't make a fuss about it. Though if he can't reach it for whatever reason, he can "command" it to get off the wall and move towards him, which would be quite a strange sight hahah

I think that's all I can think of. Generally, it's quite a lot like the Cloak of Levitation from the Doctor Strange movie, though lacking the ability to fly (instead compensating for it with other traits). It's very fun to imagine it in different scenarios, especially combat related ones - if I knew how to animate, I would love to create some battle animations with it, there's so much potential for exciting visuals.

#ask stuff #feral pk au #save #grimm

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elvenbeard · 9 months

Text

Blank Canvas

Cyberpunk 2077 Fanfic Summary: Mr. B has called, and V and and Kerry follow his invitation. The man who claims he holds the solution to V's problem in his hands, has yet to deliver the proof and keep his word... This is truly V's last shot at a long and happy life, and he sacrificed so much to get here... it better be worth it. (Post-Sun-Ending, mostly canon-compliant, Chapter 8/?, 7542 words, Kerry Eurodyne/V, content warning for mild body horror and canonical disgustingness! - notes at the end >> Previous Chapter >> Read from the Beginning

V’s Kenshin tech pistol rested heavy in his lap. The sharp, cold metal ridges of the word “arasaka” engraved into the barrel bit his tracing fingertips. His eyes were pinned to the building not far ahead, casting an ominous shadow on them in the late afternoon light.

“Got the sneakin’ suspicion we’ll lose contact as soon as you go in,” Rogue said on the holo, “So if I don’t hear back from you within an hour…”

“Send in the cavalry,” V chuckled, as did Rogue on the other end of the line. She sighed.

“Don’t think you gotta worry as much as ya do. They’re shady motherfuckers… but that’s what’s gonna be your protection. They wouldn’t wanna draw the attention hurting you would get ‘em… and even more so, fuckin’ Eurodyne.”

“Good point,” V said, but he couldn’t quite shake the impression that Rogue herself wasn’t so sure about this, deflecting, relativizing a little too much. She’d been in this business more than thrice the time he had, knew what she was talking about. Usually. But even she didn’t know more about these people than V did.

“Ya really think it’s a good idea to take him along?” she asked after a short pause.

V kept his eyes straight ahead, to not give Kerry, on the driver’s seat next to him still, any indication that they were talking about him.

“Well, what do you think?” he said in a tone as neutral as he managed.

“That he’s almost as fuckin’ stubborn as Johnny,” Rogue said, “I get it, really do. Still… Y’know what happened last time I took a rockerboy to a gig.”

“Yeah…”

This knowledge, this memory, was exactly why V did not want Kerry here with him, amongst many other reasons practical, logical, and probably also irrational.

“I’m not sayin’ that lightly,” she said, “But be careful. He might be doin’ this for you, and it could make all the difference. But they sure as fuck know he’s your biggest weakness while you’re in there together. They’re not gonna hesitate to use that against you if they gotta.”

There was a short, heavy pause.

“C’mon now, go, kid,” Rogue then said, ordered almost, “Lemme know how it went… And don’t worry ‘bout the Afterlife. We’ll cope with not havin’ ya around a little while longer.”

“Still not a fan of my optimization plans, hm?” V grinned.

“Fuck off. And move your ass. I’m not gonna come over and kick it for ya.”

She ended the call and V sighed.

“So… she got any final words of wisdom?” Kerry asked, fingers gently drumming on the steering wheel. They had swapped cars at home, and with what Rogue had said just now V wondered if it might not have been better after all to use Kerry’s Aerondight to get here… But then again, if shit hit the fan in some way, he didn’t want any more unnecessary negative attention drawn to him.

“Not really,” V shook his head, “Nothin’ I didn’t think of already at least.”

“Told ya so,” Kerry shrugged, pulling out his cigarettes at the same time. He only paused when he noticed V’s stern stare.

“Ah, fuck,” he mumbled and then got out of the car. They had not only swapped cars, but also changed clothes quickly while at the penthouse. As he slipped from the driver’s seat, Kerry’s black bomber jacket rode up briefly, revealing the gun tucked into the waistband of his cargo pants.

“You shouldn’t do that,” V said as he got out himself, “Posers in action films keep their gun in their pants. In the real world that’s gonna get you shot in the ass faster than you think.”

Out of reflex V closed the passenger side door with his left elbow, flinching at the pain shooting through his shoulder and chest. He took a deep breath, then adjusted his own gun holster worn snugly under his coat.

“Fiiine,” Kerry sighed, lit cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, and he put the gun into his jacket’s pocket. Not ideal still, but better. V smiled at him, and then slowly turned to look down the short, narrow side street they were parked in. They were close to the Santo Domingo district border, in the middle of the industrial area at the edge of the city. The location coordinates Mr. B had sent him laid not far ahead. A new, sleek white building, curved and modern in design, rose at the center of what he remembered to be factory grounds formerly. V guessed it around seven stories tall and it was far from imposing, a little bit lost on the large lot even, but it blended in well with the surrounding corpo complexes. The entire compound was fenced in. V spotted cameras and security turrets near the reinforced entrance gate. No security staff though, not even mechs or drones, much to his surprise. Or maybe they were simply not out in the open, or cloaked, or, or, or...

“I’d like to have a short look around before goin’ in,” V said, turning back to Kerry, “You wanna wait here?”

“I’d rather tag along,” he said, then added, “If I’m not in the way.”

Kerry’s tone was off, he stood slightly hunched over, as if to make himself smaller.

“You’re not,” V quickly said, forcing a smile as he reached out to tug on his sleeve briefly. Kerry really wouldn’t be a bother for some casual scouting ahead of time. He might even notice things V didn’t. Four eyes, and all that.

“I’m just asking ‘cause I’m still not sure what to really expect. Give you the chance to back out, y’know?”

“V, how many more times do I gotta tell you you’re stuck with me?” Kerry asked sternly, then slowly started walking towards the compound and V followed. As soon as they’d reached the end of the side street though, he hesitated and turned back around, downplaying his uneasiness with a brief smirk and cocky shrug, as if to say, “after you”.

“Let’s go for a short walk around the block,” he decided, nodding to have Kerry follow him around the corner. To look around, and to maybe walk off some of their nervous energy.

They headed along the main road in northern direction, “Francis Street” said the small buzzing signs at the intersection. The building was to their left now, and they’d slowly surround it counterclockwise. Kerry stayed close, V had his scanners active and investigated the security setup, looking for weaknesses in the system or structure, and anything out of the ordinary they could potentially use to their advantage.

“Isn’t it, dunno… suspicious to walk around out in the open like this?” Kerry asked shorty before they’d turn around the first corner, “I mean, not tellin’ ya how to do your job, but…”

“No, you’re not wrong,” V said, “But this is not a stealth job. If we had to sneak in quietly, I would’ve parked the car somewhere else to begin with. Do the reconnaissance from further away, over a longer timeframe. But since they expect me, and we got an access token…”

“Then… why make the effort?” Kerry wondered.

“Can’t hurt to know what we’re up against if something goes wrong,” V said, “I don’t know this area well, and it’s good to have a rough layout of everything in mind at least. ‘specially since the place doesn’t seem to have regular windows.”

They stopped briefly on the northern side of the compound and V nodded into the direction of the building. So far, he had noted nothing out of the usual, nothing he wouldn’t have expected in one way or another.

“See that?” he pointed to a gate on the side of the building blending in so well with the exterior walls, it was barely visible without a scanner, “Could be a garage entrance, and going by the size it’s big enough for a small tank. Could even lead underground. And the lights on the roof, the colors, and the way they’re arranged, suggest an AV landing pad. But can’t tell from here if there’s one there right now or not. No big communication towers or anything though, so this is all pretty closed off, which fits their secrecy and posing as an independent little lab with no ulterior motives. The security tech I’ve seen so far… all Arasaka, even if they removed the branding for most of it to make it less apparent.”

No wonder, his former employer’s name wasn’t well-liked in Night City once again.

“Huh,” Kerry pondered V’s explanations for a moment, looking the building up and down, “Wouldn’t even know where to start, like… sure, there’s security turrets and cameras but, what to do with that info…”

V had been uncertain about whether or not he wanted to… but in the end, he was convinced that Mr. B would expect him to check out their security upfront.

“Can you keep an eye out for a moment?” V asked, “Just out here on the street. Make a note of anyone passing by or giving us weird looks.”

“What’re you up to?” Kerry wanted to know, shoulders tense, but voice relaxed.

“Check the cameras. Just a minute or so, don’t wanna push it,” he said with a grin, hacking into the CCTV at the same time. His vision blurred and he gained control of the camera nearest to their position. It was attached to the corner post of the fence surrounding the compound.

“Oookay…” Kerry said reluctantly, and through the lens V saw themselves, Kerry looking around with his hands in his pockets, surely clinging to his iron.

“Don’t worry,” he tried to soothe him, “I’ll be quick and then we continue.”

The cameras on the outside of the building were all part of a separate closed-circuit network, and V couldn’t find an easy way to gain access to any internal systems. Not that he had expected to. He switched through the various cameras, most of them on the fences, around the gate, then surprisingly one surveying from the rooftop. He panned it around.

“Huh, no AV on the roof,” he informed Kerry, “Also, nothing out of the usual… apart from all security completely automated it seems. No illusive private security firm like the Peralezes had to deal with…”

He logged out of the system again, blinking a few times until his optics had refocused.

“Let’s move on.”

They completed the rest of their lap around the compound in a little less than ten minutes overall. There was not much to discover, nothing out of the usual, and V had to shut up the nagging voice in the back of his head complaining that all he did was procrastinate the inevitable.

“Last chance,” he said quietly, turned to Kerry, who shook his head sternly, eyes narrowed and dark.

“The only way I’m not going in there with you ’s them draggin’ me back out by my feet.”

V more mouthed than said “okay” in response, but still his whole body screamed to put Kerry back into the car and lock the doors until this was over. Instead, he stepped down from the curb onto the dusty tarmac. Crossing the few yards now separating them from the compound entrance seemed to be an insurmountable distance, while with each step V’s dread grew.

The gate at the center of the lot was heavy black metal, just like the fence. V recognized security scanners embedded into the floor. A couple of signs attached warned of trespassing and lethal force being used, the usual markings one could find to the entrance of every corporate- or government owned facility like this. Only now V finally noticed the nameplate above the entrance. It was somewhat subtle, fine silver letters engraved into white marble-like material, mirroring the design of the building.

“Beyond?” Kerry muttered as if he’d read V’s mind. V glanced at him also reading the sign, then Kerry looked at him.

“Heard worse names for a startup,” V shrugged. Very faintly below the “Beyond” a tagline stated “Technologies” in a spaced out, heavier font.

“Guess time will tell if they’re beyond awesome or beyond awful,” Kerry muttered, and V chuckled.

“Beyond belief, maybe?” he said, and Kerry groaned.

“Beyond belief how many bad puns this will lead to…”

They both snickered, briefly forgetting why they were here, that there was nothing really to joke about just yet.

V looked around for an intercom or something comparable, but there was nothing. Security cameras, yes, but even as they finally stood right in front of the gate, there seemed to be no immediately visible way inside, nothing happened.

“Hello?” he asked out loud, for lack of a better idea in the moment, his heart beating in his throat, “I’m here… For Mr. B?”

Nothing.

Kerry stepped a little closer, hands still in his pockets, and looked around, over his shoulder, at V.

“Gonna try and call him,” V said after a couple of moments, but then a soft crackle of static somewhere above their heads made them both look up.

“Welcome,” a voice said. Not Mr. B’s as far as V could tell, probably an automated receptionist. He still couldn’t tell where exactly it was coming from though, it seemed to be all around them with no discernible source. Not loud or otherwise attention-drawing, only just so they could hear it.

“Please step into the scanner,” the voice ordered.

V did as he was told, somewhat reluctantly, and he flinched slightly when suddenly Kerry grabbed his hand. Not to hold him back, just to hold on as he followed. The scanner activated, blue lights flashing and surrounding them completely for a few seconds.

“Firearms detected,” the voice said, “Combat cyberware detected.”

“A cyberdeck is classified as a weapon now?” V muttered under his breath as the scan completed.

“Ezaki, Vincent, 28. Fixer, Afterlife-Merc. Ex-Agent, rank III, Arasaka Counterintelligence. ‘King of the Afterlife’, wanted in Night City for - …”

“The fuck, you wanna yell my whole biography across the street?” V complained and almost simultaneously Kerry also started berating the voice.

“Shit, how do you even know - …”

They looked at each other, as the voice continued. Then it dawned on V. He only heard it in his head.

“Fuck me sideways…” Kerry muttered quietly, coming to the same conclusion, “That’s not creepy at all...”

“Scan complete,” the voice said before they could even recover from their realization, “Token verified. Visitor access granted.”

There was a loud click and a thud, and then, like an ancient creature awaking from its slumber, the massive gate crawled open.

“What the fuck was that?” Kerry asked, both of them hesitating to enter.

“Intimidation tactics,” V said sternly.

“If that’s how they treat their guests I don’t wanna know how they treat their enemies,” Kerry mumbled. V wondered if concepts like “friends” and “enemies” really mattered all that much to these people.

“Stay behind me a bit, just in case,” he said, still convinced that any moment now someone would open fire, or snatch Kerry away from him, that he was not wanted here after all. Reluctantly Kerry let go of his hand as they entered the compound, the gate rattling shut behind them again. Mr. B had sprung one of his may traps once more.

A white-tiled path wound its way between coarse dark gravel towards the entrance of the building, framed by freshly planted, synthetic bonsai trees that were all a bit too uniform, too perfect. V and Kerry were not even halfway there when the tall black entrance doors slid open, revealing a sprawling hall beyond. A handful of flat steps led up and into it, and the hair on V’s neck stood up when they stepped inside.

“Got a bad feeling,” Kerry uttered out loud what V was thinking.

Describing the entrance hall as imposing was an under- and overstatement at the same time, somehow. Its dimensions were certainly breathtaking, encompassing at least half of the building’s height and width. A smartglass ceiling projected the endless night sky above them, cosmic clouds swirling between sparkling stars and far solar systems, the logo “Beyond Technologies” floating among the digital nebulas. The darkness of the ceiling was reflected in the black marble flooring, while the indirectly lit walls were white. Decorative silver lines crawled between earth below and sky above, reminiscent of circuit boards. “We reach for the stars” seemed to be the message here, and the first impression was certainly something. Apart from that though, the room was disappointingly empty, almost as if the budget had run out mid-furnishing. No desks, chairs, decorations. No people, either, and the security systems, which certainly existed, were well-hidden. On the inside the building was just as devoid of actual life as its surroundings.

The only outstanding architectural element was a large glass tube housing two separate elevator shafts at the center of the room, the only other visible ways in and out. Just as V had finished the thought, an elevator came into sight from above, within the familiar face of Mr. B.

“That’s him,” V whispered, and Kerry shuffled, whether with unease or to ready himself he was not certain.

The elevator stopped on their level, the door slid open elegantly. Mr. B, dressed in a white blazer combined with sleek, silvery pants today, stepped out towards them.

“So glad you could make it this soon,” he said, tone overly friendly, “Although you look somewhat more roughed-up than Saturday…”

“Nothin’ to do with the gig,” V quickly deflected.

“Didn’t think so,” Mr. B said with a nod. He slowly, steadily walked towards them, but stopped retaining about three yards of distance – respectful or distrustful? Arms behind his straightened back, he held his head high, and blue glowing eyes looked V up and down briefly before wandering to Kerry.

“Mr. Eurodyne,” he hinted a bow, “A true honor and pleasure to meet another Night City legend in person.”

V half expected a snarky response like “wish I could say the same” or “can we just skip the pleasantries and get down to business”, but in fact, Kerry remained quiet. V looked over his shoulder, just to make sure he was still there.

“So, you’re the guy claimin’ he can save V’s life?” Kerry then finally said, the tiniest, most gut-wrenching tremble accompanying his last few words.

Mr. B’s smile grew slightly wider.

“I’m not just claiming it,” he said, oozing confidence.

“How?” Kerry asked promptly, “’Cause - …”

Mr. B raised his hand to stop him, and Kerry scoffed.

“I think it is easier to show you than to explain,” he said, “Follow me, please.”

He half-turned and elegantly gestured towards the elevator. V and Kerry exchanged a quick glance. V could sense Kerry’s nerves, his nausea about this whole situation. Every cell in V’s own body warned him about stepping into that elevator and yet… Was that Johnny’s lingering influence, his aversion to corporations and slimy bastards like Mr. B, or really V’s own instinct speaking? Also, Mr. B seemed surprisingly relaxed about Kerry even being here… V had expected more of a resistance, more hoops to jump through. And now they were invited in just like that?

Mr. B led the way and V and Kerry felt they had no other option but to follow, as if they were being pulled by an invisible leash. There was no way for them to speak, communicate what to do if something went wrong. V did a quick scan of their surroundings as they walked, noting that there really were no doors beyond the entrance and the elevators in this whole cathedral of a room – was this really built just to show off, impress the – presumably – rare visitors?

“After you,” Mr. B said and V stepped into the wide, circular elevator, closely followed by Kerry, glued to his side.

“I know everything is a bit bleak still out here,” Mr. B then said with a glance over his shoulder, right as he joined them. V shivered.

“Not at all, it is impressive,” he flattered, “But yes, you mentioned this building is brand-new?”

Blue-Eyes nodded.

“You are among the first of our… clients to walk within these walls,” he said, “For lack of a better term.”

The doors slid shut with precision. V couldn’t see a control panel, and yet the elevator just seemed to know where they were headed, ascending towards the galaxy ceiling, and then passing through. Remote controlled, probably. Blue-Eyes had to be stock-full of chrome capable of little tricks like that, nothing that impressed V too much just yet.

“Who are your other ‘clients’, apart from people you invest in,” V inquired instead. Unable to hide his curiosity he deliberately used Mr. B’s terminology, even though he’d always hated to be treated as some corporation’s investment. Kerry’s stinging stare was like a knife to his throat, but V kept his eyes on Mr. B as they ascended slowly. The elevator shaft was only see-through on the ground level, further up the futuristic magic of it all was somewhat diminished, replaced with run-of-the-mill skyscraper interior aesthetics.

Mr. B turned to look at V, smile as piercing as his eyes.

“So far it is only people we invest in – in one way or another,” he said.

The elevator came to a halt, the doors slid open again, revealing a long, bright corridor that screamed “lab”. There were doors left and right, but V could not make out identifying markers, nameplates, or anything else to give an indication of what lay behind them as they followed Mr. B to the end of the hallway. The silence, apart from their echoing footsteps, was thick, and V counted the doors, memorizing how far apart they were and approximated how long it would take to run the entire distance to the elevator, how quickly they would be able to find cover.

Mr. B opened the tall white door ahead of them. They entered a large office, its shape followed the curve of the building’s exterior walls, and V roughly knew where they were now. Somewhere above the large garage gate they’d seen from the outside.

The room was about twice the size of V’s old Megabuilding H10 apartment. The entirety of the curved wall was covered in smartglass displaying once more the name “Beyond” on a minimalistic, slightly animated white and silver background. It provided enough illumination to bathe the whole room in soft, almost-natural light. A large white desk sat roughly at the back center of the room, a modern art piece of its own volition. There were two comfortable armchairs for visitors and a large office chair behind it, all white leather. In fact, the whole room was so bright, so white, so immaculately clean that it made V dizzy. As if he’d walked right into the afterlife – the literal one this time, not the bar. And again, apart from the desk and seating, there was nothing else in here. Some modular shelves built into the walls that weren’t covered in screens, but no decoration, no sliver of personality. Smooth, cold, bright, blinding, corpo-chic… in a way, it did make sense after all that this was Mr. Blue-Eyes’ office.

“Please, have a seat,” Mr. B said as he sat down in the office chair. V and Kerry obliged, Kerry still with his hands in his pockets, slumping back, legs spread wide, right one slightly bouncing. He never took his eyes off Mr. B. The latter pulled up a holographic screen in front of him, top-notch tech if V had ever seen any. Arasaka’s collapse was probably what had made the setup of this lab possible in the first place – certainly the security measures, so why not the tech on the inside as well? In a way, V was suddenly thrown back into Jenkins’ office, the many lengthy private meetings either with just V alone or the other agents on his level invited.

“I take it Mr. Eurodyne has been brought up to date on why you’re here today?” Mr. B then asked, catching V completely off guard. Blue-Eyes tapped around on his screen briefly before leaning back in his chair, legs crossed, and hands folded expectantly. Only now Kerry briefly glanced at V.

“Wish I was being brought up to date still if I’m being completely honest,” V said sternly, “I’ve kept my word, no mention of what I did for you until it was done.”

“Who else knows?” was the counter-question.

“No-one that wasn’t directly involved,” V replied fast and truthfully.

Blue-glowing eyes stared him down intensely, certainly equipped with the tech to read intention and recognize lies. But V was a good liar, and in this case, for once, he even told the truth, had nothing to hide. After a couple of moments, Mr. B’s shoulders relaxed somewhat, but V’s heart continued to run a marathon in his chest.

“I’ve left him in the dark long enough. Your turn now,” he added sternly.

Mr. B slightly tilted his head, and his smile returned.

“You remember our conversation at the Afterlife?” he asked, “I promised you something beyond your wildest imagination… An instant and permanent solution to your medical issues.”

He cleared his throat briefly, then continued. V had to force himself to relax his own posture, mirroring Blue-Eyes’ now with his legs crossed, as if they were having a nice dinner date to talk business.

“The way I see it, having known you and your condition for a while now, your problem has always been the one of an alert, bright mind, trapped in a dying body,” Mr. B said, “First it was the Relic slowly killing you, and now it’s the only thing that’s left of your life how it used to be.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” V shook his head, but he was sick to his stomach hearing what he knew deep down spelled out so clearly, with so little emotion. The doctors they’d dealt with so far had always at least somewhat tried to sugarcoat the facts, usually in medical terms. Or provided them with the same “options” Hellman had already loved to push on him, “options” to consider apart from chasing a cure that didn’t exist.

“You can sense it though, don’t you?” Mr. B continued, leaning forward slightly now, “You should, at this point. Your mind disconnecting itself, slowly but surely, from a host not fitting its specifications anymore.”

“Can you cut it out with that gross tech-jabber?” Kerry interrupted him now, “V’s not some machine, and his body is his body, not a ‘host’, for fuck’s sake.”

Mr. B briefly turned to look at Kerry, keeping up his friendly smile.

“Apologies,” he said, “I do sometimes get caught up in the technical terminology.”

“How do you know all that anyway?” V then asked, trying to maintain his relaxed posture while his head began to throb in pain once more, “The emptiness the… disconnect. Because yes. That’s how I’d put into words what I’m feeling lately. Or… not feeling, rather.”

Blue-Eyes reached out to turn around his screen for V and Kerry to see.

“We were able to get our hands on a lot of very interesting data from Arasaka’s ‘Secure your Soul’ program,” he explained, “It is far from complete, but we have access to a large database containing both simulations and clinical trials with human study participants, for both the original Relic and the Relic 2.0. With what we have, gaps were easy to approximate.”

V scanned through the data on the screen briefly, recognizing some names and information here and there from his own venture into the depths of Arasaka’s labs during that long, dark, awful night back in June.

“The 2.0 never made it to completion though,” V then said, looking up from the terminal, “I’m the first one where it… somewhat worked as intended. Failed successfully. Hellman himself said so.”

“Indeed,” Mr. B nodded, “We were able to secure many notes of Mr. Hellman’s team as well, verifying his concerns on our own time meanwhile, and reaching similar conclusions. In subjects where the Relic malfunctioned or the engram didn’t fully take, even in those otherwise most promising, there was always mentions of a growing numbness, disconnect, distance between engram and host… until the engram eventually malfunctioned and, for lack of a better word, disabled itself.”

“You mean, died,” Kerry said sternly.

“I hope you’re not implying you’ve carried on Hellman’s work…” V asked, his mind racing at the mental image of the basement levels of this building just a whiter, friendlier-looking copy of Arasaka’s labs, while containing the same or even more messed up levels of human experimentation. He did not like Mr. B’s widening, predator-like smile.

“Not in the sense you’re imagining,” he shook his head. But he did not outright deny it either.

V swallowed, he struggled to continue holding eye-contact with Mr. B, when his mind told him “Run. Now!”. Kerry looked back and forth between V and Blue-Eyes tensely, brow heavily furrowed, slowly sliding closer to the edge of his seat.

“Anders Hellman’s focus were the Relic’s architecture and the engrams themselves. Optimizing those two variables to ensure the transferred personalities were as close to their originals as possible,” Mr. B continued, “For Arasaka’s purposes that was a valid concern. Nothing worse than transferring Saburo-sama into a new host body only to have him, well… come back wrong. Not the man, the leader he is. It makes sense.”

He paused, uncrossed his legs, and got up from his chair. He turned to look at the smartglass wall behind them, the slightly pulsating “Beyond” engulfed in digital fog. Then he looked back at V.

“Your concern though, as mentioned, lies in the fact that you’re currently in the wrong kind of host body, which is actively rejecting your psyche.”

“Get to the fucking point, fucking hell,” Kerry muttered and pulled out his cigarettes.

“I’d kindly ask you not to smoke in here,” Mr. B said, tone still friendly, but he looked down on them, towered over them.

“Make me,” Kerry challenged, rummaging for his lighter at the same time, eyes electric and wild.

“Kerry,” V awkwardly placed his injured hand on Kerry’s right thigh in an attempt to soothe him. Only after staring at each other intensely for a couple of moments Kerry stopped searching for his lighter.

“I don’t like where this is going either,” V thought, hoping somehow to convey his conflicting emotions without words. He hated everything about this, but… Mr. B’s promise was his last shot at a life together. At the very least he wanted to hear all details of his offer, even if…

Kerry put his hand on V’s carefully, holding it in place. He understood.

“I know this is a lot to take in at once,” Mr. B then said, “Even more so I am glad to have you both here, as, with how close you are, my solution to your problem will certainly be a concern for each of you to consider.”

V’s stomach twisted at that implication alone. Mr. B tapped around on his screen once more, and a sudden hissing noise behind them made both V and Kerry flinch, then spin around. A previously invisible hatch in the ground slid open, steam rolling in, probably caused by the reaction of some sort of coolant with the nicely air-conditioned office. A large platform began to rise from the ground, on top of it an eerily coffin-shaped and -sized container.

“Here is my offer, my solution, my payment for you, V,” Mr. B said proudly, “And my promise for a bright future ahead.”

V’s heart and thoughts were racing. The platform came to an agonizingly slow halt, locking into place with a metallic thud. The cold steam slowly subsided, and Mr. B walked around the desk passing them, towards the container, until it sat between them. It was built from the same black metal as the gate and fence outside, as the interior of the building beneath the polished white walls and shiny screens.

“Am I gonna regret looking at this?” V asked hesitantly, still glued to his chair, as was Kerry, fingertips digging into the syn-leather.

“I think you have seen worse in your time,” Mr. B smiled, then beckoned him to come over. V rose, slowly, each movement calculated precisely. Step by step, one after the other… his feet barely obeyed him, he had to convince them to move, carry him towards this human-sized pandora’s box.

Kerry remained behind a little while longer but got up as soon as V had reached the platform.

The lid on top of the container was see-through, thick security glass, slightly covered in condensation. The interior was still clearly visible though, illuminated by the same icy light as everything in the building.

V leaned forward, daring a glimpse. He gasped, shuddered at the sight of a body laying inside. Not surprised, he was also not thrilled, but also unable to take his eyes off of it. This was not a random dead person in front of him. It appeared human at first glance, but the longer V looked the more wrong it became. It was hairless, sexless, naked, its facial features weirdly smooth and undefinable, a mannequin made to look human at best… and the worst alternatives would certainly haunt V’s nightmares in the days to come. It appeared sleeping, or dead, arms resting at its sides, its eyelash-less eyes closed. It wasn’t breathing, seemed frozen in place almost, and the container was giving off an icy cold aura.

“What in the fuck… is that?” V finally managed to ask. Stepping away from the container he bumped into Kerry who had only just reached his side.

“Your means of survival,” Mr. B said as if they were looking at a cartoonishly colorful pill bottle, not a prop from a bad mid-last-century sci-fi horror flick.

“Sorry, but that ain’t quite cutting it as an explanation,” V said, and he was close to reaching the point of slapping the slimy smile out of Mr. B’s face. He kept his cool though, forced himself to breathe slowly.

“Motherfucker, what the hell…” Kerry hissed, now also getting a peek into the futuristic metal-casket, but he quickly withdrew again, “That a fuckin’ corpse or what?”

“What you’re seeing here is a second chance for many people in your situation, V,” Mr. B said, disregarding Kerry’s remark. He placed his hands on the rim of the container’s lid.

“People with a healthy mind that are dying of an incurable disease, whatever it may be. Let down by their own body, all options are exhausted. But they are not yet ready to give up. This is an individual, pain-free solution to live a long, healthy life, in a more natural way than any other modern therapy could offer.”

“Fuck that, nothin’ ‘bout that thing’s natural,” Kerry grumbled, and once more, Mr. B raised a hand to stop him, calm him down. Kerry glared, then he turned to V.

“You’re seeing how fucked up this is, right?”

V’s own heartbeat was so loud, he barely heard Kerry’s voice.

“This is more natural than your body is at this stage, Mr. Eurodyne,” Mr. B said, then paused briefly, “No offense.”

Kerry froze, biting his tongue certainly sharp with an angry retort.

“What exactly is it, even?” V then slowly asked, but still didn’t dare to look back inside the container, “Some kinda… RealSkinn-covered cyborg? A new kinda total body conversion, a clone, or what?”

“Neither, not quite,” Mr. B shook his head. He looked down into the coffin, bright light from within reflected in his eyes, illuminating his pale face. Then he took half a step back again and sought V’s gaze.

“This is the product of years of trial and error, research and optimization, many failures,” he began to explain, “A blank canvas comes closest maybe to what it is exactly. No conversion, but a replacement. A biological body, with slight… enhancements. It needs food, sleep, exercise, grows hair, ages, can get aroused, sick, injured, bleeds, and it will eventually die… everything a ‘natural’ body would do as well. This is not immortality, but life. The body can be pre-equipped with top-tier synthetic organs, an operating system, interface plugs, personal link, and any other cyberware the client wishes for or is used to. With the great benefit that, since the body ‘naturally’ comes with these enhancements, cyberpsychosis is almost no concern anymore, for example. On its own though it cannot survive. It needs to be equipped with a conscience first.”

“Not so ‘natural’ after all then…” Kerry muttered under his breath.

“No offense,” V said, “That’s all nice and well but…”

“You can’t see yet how this would help you in your situation?” Mr. B asked. V grinned.

“That thing’s ugly as fuck,” he said, “Adam Smasher was a beauty pageant winner in comparison.”

Mr. B chuckled, but his eyes remained coldly fixated on him.

“Can I just pick a nice faceplate to slap on, too, together with all the other fancy chrome you can stuff in there?”

“Oh, far from it, V,” Mr. B said, raising his head triumphant, “This body can be yours as much – or even more so – than your current one is.”

He walked to the lower end of the container, tapping onto a small panel there. V was momentarily scared the creepy flesh-mannequin would now wake up and emerge, to secure its spot in the top three of messed up things he’d seen this year. Instead, though, the glass panel atop the container flickered, like a screen being turned on.

“No need to be afraid,” Mr. B smiled.

“I’m not,” V quickly retorted, almost believing himself.

“Come closer, have a look.”

V swallowed, then slowly stepped forward again. When he looked in the container, his heart stopped. He looked at his own face, asleep, dead, frozen in this weird state of stasis.

“What the… a projection?” he realized as he tried to process this visual still.

“To give you an idea of what’s possible,” Mr. B nodded.

And indeed, it was still the same, blank, doll-like body, just with his face and hair projected onto it. Kerry slowly approached again as well, staring into the container speechlessly.

“The body will be yours not only in a biological sense,” Mr. B explained, “We use your DNA’s structure as a basis to shape the genetic aspects. From skin- and hair color down to individual freckles.”

The projection slightly adjusted, beginning to resemble V more and more. Describing the visuals as “bizarre” was not nearly strong enough an emotion to fit V’s thoughts and feelings in this moment.

“But we can also modify every aspect to your liking, create an ‘ideal’ you, far from what modern medicine and modifications could currently achieve in an already existing body.”

V didn’t even have to ask for clarification when the appearance of the body’s chest changed, top surgery scars gone as if they’d never existed… and its genitals definitely were different from what V was used to seeing when he looked down, when he scrutinized himself in the mirror on a bad day. He shuddered, with intrigue, horror, disgust, curiosity alike.

“You’re saying… you’re remaking my body from scratch, and ‘better’, basically…”

He barely managed to get the words out, his throat tight and dry, his stomach unhappy with the mere thought.

“Not better,” Mr. B said, marketing-voice in full action, “However you want it, whatever you wish it to be like.”

Next, V’s neck cyberware appeared on the projection, then his tattoos, in surprising detail. Even Johnny’s stupid love-heart… V didn’t want to ask or even know just how they got all of this down so accurately.

“Okay okay,” V said and stepped back from the container, before the nausea of seeing himself lying in that coffin, kind of dead-looking, got the better of him, “You got a new body for me, alright. But how do you get me in there? And…”

His breath hitched at a grim realization.

“What happens… to this body? My… real body?”

Mr. B blinked slowly, raised his eyebrows, then turned off the projection. Only the blank body base from the beginning remained in the container.

“Your new body will be more real, more you, than this one is at this stage,” he said calmly, gesturing in V’s direction, “It will be healthy, free of old trauma, and equipped with the tech to safely contain your mind and memories without the option of someone – accidentally or willingly – turning the lights off by removing the Relic from your neck slot. I hate to say it, but your current body is your greatest weakness, V, riddled with exploits. You will not need it anymore, as it is only holding you back from using your full potential.”

V's head began to spin wildly, midway through Mr. B’s explanations.

“Vince…” Kerry, who had kept himself in the background for the last couple of minutes, reached out to support him, hand firm on V’s back.

“So… what, I gotta… You’ll run me through Soulkiller again, or what?” V asked, trying to sort his racing thoughts as he spoke.

“In a way, yes,” Mr. B said, but he might as well just have punched V in the gut, “We are currently looking into creating our own version of the algorithm, a more… gentle approach. The problem of engrams created with Arasaka’s Soulkiller has always been, to more or less of a degree of severity, their emotional stuntedness. We would want to avoid a further decrease in authenticity for this transferal.”

“And my body is just… It will die?”

“It is dying this very moment,” Mr. B said, without a hint of sympathy in voice or expression, but a flat matter-of-factness striking V at the very core, “And it will take your mind along with it, if we don’t act soon.”

“Hold up, hold up,” Kerry said, his fingers digging into V’s bruised side, making him flinch, but he leaned into the touch, into Kerry for support, “Didn’t you just say you’re still working on… how to even get him into this new body?”

“Yes, and we are almost ready,” Mr. B nodded, “A few days, at most. And for the time being, we also have the option – just an option, no must – to slow down the decay. A medically induced coma, in laymen’s terms. You go to sleep in this, and wake up in your new body, without noticing anything in-between, ideally.”

“Ideally…” V repeated weakly.

“V?” Kerry said quietly, urgence in his voice. V slowly turned away from the container to look at Kerry. His eyes were wide and worried, he looked him up and down briefly. Beads of cold sweat ran down the small of V’s back, his legs were numb, his hands clammy.

“I think I need some fresh air,” was all he managed to say, trying to hold Kerry’s gaze but failing, grabbing his arm now as his head grew heavier by the minute.

“Of course. It is a lot to take in at once,” Mr. B said. With that and a loud clank the body container started to slowly disappear into the floor again, locked away behind shiny white tiling, like a well-hidden dirty little secret.

“Let me accompany you outside,” Mr. B suggested, and now it was Kerry to raise his hand at him.

“We’ll manage, thanks,” he said, mimicking Blue-Eyes’ overly friendly tone.

“As you wish,” Mr. B nodded, opening the office door for them at least, “As I said, at the latest in a few days we are ready to receive you here, but you can come in any time from now on to get the procedure started. It’s the least we can do to ensure your wellbeing for the future, V. That you even get to see a future… both of you together.”

“Sure, thanks,” V said tersely, Mr. B’s voice muffled and distant as Kerry half-dragged, half-pushed him out of the office, through the endlessly long white hallway with mystery-doors left and right. The open elevator awaited them, miraculously took them to the ground floor without them having to push any buttons or even say a word.

“We’re outta here in a moment, don’t worry. It’s all good,” Kerry said, hands cupping V’s face, but every time their eyes met, V reflexively looked away at the stinging flash of blue.

The elevator doors snapped open, and V and Kerry marched across the huge, empty, echoing entrance hall to the already open exit. The sun had almost set when they stepped outside onto the flawless path ahead, sand and street dust swirling across the courtyard. V stumbled down the steps by the entrance, almost pitched forward, breath shaky, knees trembling. For a moment he thought he’d be able to regain his composure, taking a few deep breaths… but his headache, the nausea that had been riddling him the whole time they’d spent in that building, took over. Right on Mr. B’s doorstep, between neatly trimmed fake bonsai trees, V puked his guts out onto the pristine white marble tiles.

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>> Next Chapter

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Notes:

Last time there was smut, and now here's the promised angst... HHHH I was really really nervous about posting this, cause we're entering straight-up sci-fi territory now and my Cyberpunk lore knowledge is not as deep as I would like it in some regards sometimes XD But yeah... V's problem is, his body's letting him down, is dying... time for a new one right? Simple! Easy!

What would you do in his situation? I'm honestly curious (as I'm unsure how I would even feel like xD)!

I hope you enjoyed reading this, I think this was the longest chapter so far... and the angst will continue for a bit next time but maybe... maybe (I'm really not 100% certain yet, depends really on how V and Kerry are gonna behave XD), we'll have a little cameo of someone coming up soon 👀

Requested Fic Update Tags:

@humberg @r3d-f0x-blog @thatinternetwanderer @localtranspigeon @xtaiyo @kharonion @genocidalfetus @seeker-of-truth 💜

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#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #cyberpunk 2077 spoilers #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #cp2077 #cp2077 fanfic #cyberpunk kerry #kerry eurodyne #kerry eurodyne x v #mr. blue eyes #cyberpunk v #male v cyberpunk #male v #vincent ezaki #otp: to bad decisions #my writing #love is stored in the olive jar

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mariacallous · 10 months

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The Athenian historian Thucydides once remarked that Sparta was so lacking in impressive temples or monuments that future generations who found the place deserted would struggle to believe it had ever been a great power. But even without physical monuments, the memory of Sparta is very much alive in the modern United States. In popular culture, Spartans star in film and feature as the protagonists of several of the largest video game franchises. The Spartan brand is used to promote obstacle races, fitness equipment, and firearms. Sparta has also become a political rallying cry, including by members of the extreme right who stormed the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021. Sparta is gone, but the glorification of Sparta—Spartaganda, as it were—is alive and well.

Even more concerning is the U.S. military’s love of all things Spartan. The U.S. Army, of course, has a Spartan Brigade (Motto: “Sparta Lives”) as well as a Task Force Spartan and Spartan Warrior exercises, while the Marine Corps conducts Spartan Trident littoral exercises—an odd choice given that the Spartans were famously very poor at littoral operations. Beyond this sort of official nomenclature, unofficial media regularly invites comparisons between U.S. service personnel and the Spartans as well.

Much of this tendency to imagine U.S. soldiers as Spartan warriors comes from Steven Pressfield’s historical fiction novel Gates of Fire, still regularly assigned in military reading lists. The book presents the Spartans as superior warriors from an ultra-militarized society bravely defending freedom (against an ethnically foreign “other,” a feature drawn out more explicitly in the comic and later film 300). Sparta in this vision is a radically egalitarian society predicated on the cultivation of manly martial virtues. Yet this image of Sparta is almost entirely wrong. Spartan society was singularly unworthy of emulation or praise, especially in a democratic society.

To start with, the Spartan reputation for military excellence turns out to be, on closer inspection, mostly a mirage. Despite Sparta’s reputation for superior fighting, Spartan armies were as likely to lose battles as to win them, especially against peer opponents such as other Greek city-states. Sparta defeated Athens in the Peloponnesian War—but only by accepting Persian money to do it, reopening the door to Persian influence in the Aegean, which Greek victories at Plataea and Salamis nearly a century early had closed. Famous Spartan victories at Plataea and Mantinea were matched by consequential defeats at Pylos, Arginusae, and ultimately Leuctra. That last defeat at Leuctra, delivered by Thebes a mere 33 years after Sparta’s triumph over Athens, broke the back of Spartan power permanently, reducing Sparta to the status of a second-class power from which it never recovered.

Sparta was one of the largest Greek city-states in the classical period, yet it struggled to achieve meaningful political objectives; the result of Spartan arms abroad was mostly failure. Sparta was particularly poor at logistics; while Athens could maintain armies across the Eastern Mediterranean, Sparta repeatedly struggled to keep an army in the field even within Greece. Indeed, Sparta spent the entirety of the initial phase of the Peloponnesian War, the Archidamian War (431-421 B.C.), failing to solve the basic logistical problem of operating long term in Attica, less than 150 miles overland from Sparta and just a few days on foot from the nearest friendly major port and market, Corinth.

The Spartans were at best tactically and strategically uncreative. Tactically, Sparta employed the phalanx, a close-order shield and spear formation. But while elements of the hoplite phalanx are often presented in popular culture as uniquely Spartan, the formation and its equipment were common among the Greeks from at least the early fifth century, if not earlier. And beyond the phalanx, the Spartans were not innovators, slow to experiment with new tactics, combined arms, and naval operations. Instead, Spartan leaders consistently tried to solve their military problems with pitched hoplite battles. Spartan efforts to compel friendship by hoplite battle were particularly unsuccessful, as with the failed Spartan efforts to compel Corinth to rejoin the Spartan-led Peloponnesian League by force during the Corinthian War.

Sparta’s military mediocrity seems inexplicable given the city-state’s popular reputation as a highly militarized society, but modern scholarship has shown that this, too, is mostly a mirage. The agoge, Sparta’s rearing system for citizen boys, frequently represented in popular culture as akin to an intense military bootcamp, in fact included no arms training or military drills and was primarily designed to instill obedience and conformity rather than skill at arms or tactics. In order to instill that obedience, the older boys were encouraged to police the younger boys with violence, with the result that even in adulthood Spartan citizens were liable to settle disputes with their fists, a tendency that predictably made them poor diplomats.

But while Sparta’s military performance was merely mediocre, no better or worse than its Greek neighbors, Spartan politics makes it an exceptionally bad example for citizens or soldiers in a modern free society. Modern scholars continue to debate the degree to which ancient Sparta exercised a unique tyranny of the state over the lives of individual Spartan citizens. However, the Spartan citizenry represented only a tiny minority of people in Sparta, likely never more than 15 percent, including women of citizen status (who could not vote or hold office). Instead, the vast majority of people in Sparta, between 65 and 85 percent, were enslaved helots. (The remainder of the population was confined to Sparta’s bewildering array of noncitizen underclasses.) The figure is staggering, far higher than any other ancient Mediterranean state or, for instance, the antebellum American South, rightly termed a slave society with a third of its people enslaved.

The ancient sources are effectively unanimous that the helots were the worst treated slaves in all of Greece; helotry was an institution that shocked the conscience of Athenian slaveholders. Critias, an Athenian collaborator with Sparta, was said to have quipped that it was in Sparta that “the free were most free and the slaves most a slave,” a staggering statement about a society that was mostly enslaved (and about Critias as a person that he thought this was praise). Plutarch reports the various ways that the Spartans humiliated and degraded the helots, while the Athenian orator Isocrates argued that it was a crime to murder enslaved people everywhere in Greece, except Sparta. Sparta, with both the most slaves per capita and the worst treated slaves, was likely the least free society in the whole of the ancient world.

Nor were the Spartans particularly good stewards of Greek freedom. While their place in popular culture, motivated by films such as 300, puts the Spartans at the head of efforts to defend Greek freedom from the expanding Persian Empire, Sparta was not always so averse to Persia. Unable to deal with the Athenian fleet itself, Sparta accepted Persian money during the Peloponnesian War to build its own, selling the Ionian Greeks back into Persian rule in exchange for humbling Athens. That war won the Spartans a brief hegemony in Greece, which they quickly squandered, ending up at war with their former allies in Corinth.

Unable to win that war either, Sparta again turned to Persia to enforce a peace, called the “King’s Peace,” which sold yet more Greek city-states to the Persian king in exchange for making Sparta into Persia’s local enforcer in Greece, tasked with preventing the emergence of larger Greek alliances that could challenge Persia. Far from being the defender of Greek independence, when given the chance the Spartans opened not only the windows but also the doors to Persian rule. They also refused to join in Alexander the Great’s expedition against Persia, for which Alexander mocked them by dedicating the spoils of his first victories “from all of the Greeks, except the Spartans.”

Instead of a society of freedom-defending super-warriors, Sparta is better understood as a place where the wealthiest class of landholder, the Spartans themselves, had succeeded in reducing the great majority of their poor compatriots to slavery and excluded the rest, called the perioikoi, from political participation or citizenship. The tiny minority of Spartan citizens derived their entire income from the labor of slaves, being legally barred from doing any productive work or engaging in commerce.

And rather than spending their time in ascetic military training, they spent their ample leisure time doing the full suite of expensive, aristocratic Greek pastimes: hunting (a pastime for the wealthy rather than a means of subsistence in the ancient world), eating amply, accumulating money, funding Olympic teams, breeding horses, and so on. Greek authors such as Xenophon and Plutarch continually insist that the golden age of Spartan austerity and egalitarianism existed in the distant past, but each author pushes that golden age further and further into that past, and in any event, archaeology tells us it was never so.

And that lavish lifestyle was clearly very important to the Spartans because they were willing to sacrifice all of their other ambitions on the altar to it. Beginning in the early 400s, the population of Spartan citizens, defined by being rich enough in land to make the mess contributions that were a key part of military and social lfie, began to decline as Spartan families used inheritance and marriage to consolidate holdings and increase their wealth, from 8,000 Spartan citizens in 480 B.C. to 3,500 in 418 to 2,500 in 394 to just 1,500 in 371. The collapse in the number of Spartans who qualified for citizenship had disastrous effects on the manpower available for the Spartan army, causing Sparta’s strategic ambitions to all crumble, one by one. Yet efforts by Agis IV (245-241 B.C.) and Cleomenes III (235-222 B.C.) to arrest the decline were foiled precisely because the Spartan political system denied any political voice to any but the leisured rich, who had little incentive to change.

Sparta is no inspiration for the leaders of a free state. Sparta was a prison in the guise of a state and added little to the sum of the human experience except suffering. No American, much less any U.S. soldier, should aspire to be like a Spartan.

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danyaselmar · 14 days

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This is my gift for @carlosoliveiraa for the Baldur’s Gate 3 exchange organized by her and @zevlor <3

Serenade for Three

Rating: T; no warnings (teeny-tiny bit suggestive if you squint) <1k

Her fingers expertly caressed the strings of the lute. The trusted instrument vibrated in her arms, wooden body humming in harmony with the bard’s angelic voice.

Amity Brightwater sat comfortably on a tree trunk, enfolded by the warmth radiating off of the campfire and illuminated by its guttering glowing light. Her hair swayed in the soft evening breeze. As if the loose strands were dancing along with the tunes.

The song she had chosen for tonight held more meaning than she pretended to know. A deeper message hidden from the grasp of her tadpole-ridden mind but just within reach of her aching soul which yearned infinitely strong to proclaim proudly how she felt.

Her tail flicked beside her like a metronome while she sang.

"Moonlight gently lay your might,

down on my oh bleeding heart.

Darkness will be forced away,

until we meet and dance again."

Shadowheart caught herself tapping with her foot to the rhythm of the song. The tender melody brought her comfort and managed to ease away most traces of the bitter reality. It felt as if all her worries were a million miles away, buried on a different plane. Here, in this exact moment, she didn’t need to worry about tadpoles or the Absolute. She felt safe. And warm. Within her usually wintry heart something stirred. Stronger than ever before.

Above her the moon smiled behind a gossamer veil of clouds, silver light dripping through the carefully woven cover, pouring down chastely on the intimate moment shared between the two companions like the impalpable tears of the Dark Lady herself.

Shadowheart allowed her mind to recall the other fateful night where wine, calmness and kisses were shared under the ever loving and undiscriminating gaze of the firmament. A memory, albeit still fresh, she cherished deeply like every fragment of her splintered remembrance. And despite the pain she felt piercing through the scar on her hand she refused to suffocate the small flame that kindled in the very center of her body. For it provided more and more warmth every day. A tiny glimmer of hope that carefully snuck around the guardians of her predetermined destiny, providing an equally tiny insight on a path she never considered before.

A path of companionship opened up by the tiefling bard whose music always managed to touch her in the right place.

Not far from the campfire another elven creature was haunted by similar trouble. In his tent Halsin was still lying awake on his bedroll. Too many thoughts kept him from finding much needed rest. The grove was saved thanks to the effort and bravery of the fierce leader of the group of misadventurers. Amity. The bard had impressed him on multiple occasions. Mostly through her compassion for her kin. The refugees from Elturel.

Through the opening of his tent he could see the night sky above camp. Cloudy yet auspicious.

Besides the chirping of crickets there was another pleasant sound being carried into his tent. The voice of his savior accompanied by a melodically played lute.

"Oaks and bears protect my love,

from harm beyond the realm of nature.

Fools will try and try again,

to hold the hands of beasts within."

He rose upwards to lean on his elbows and to shoot a quick glance in the direction of the words that permeated his entire being like his druidic magic. And of course, his eyes found her form immediately, drawn to her like bees were drawn to fragrant blossoms. The bold words made his heart flutter.

Halsin envied the moon for she could always caress the bard’s skin without consequences.

He longed to feel the softness of her chest pressed against his. He longed to feel the rough ridges where her tail met her lower back against his lips. He caught himself instinctively seeking out skin contact whenever possible. And even if it was just the mere brush of her, from years of playing the lute, calloused fingertips when she handed him a bowl of stew. He cherished every second.

Halsin envied the wind for he could always kiss her cheeks without consequences. Whenever Amity returned to camp with prominent remnants of the latest battles still on her face he wished nothing more than to wash the blood and grime off her skin, to clean her wounds and to press little kisses on the small cuts littering her cheeks. But this privilege was not yet his.

And Halsin envied Shadowheart for she could always be closest to her without consequences.

Or so it seemed.

He had observed the two women interacting. And he knew they were close. Of course he had noticed them slipping away from camp the night they celebrated their victory. And he still felt the slight sting in his heart when he remembered rejecting Amity’s sweet advances during the party.

But he had also noticed the stolen glances directed at him. The bard’s gaze would linger on him often. And whenever he saw that Shadowheart noticed as well, he could never find any traces of jealousy in her eyes. Only soft fondness directed also at him.

Halsin hoped that perhaps when the shadow curse was lifted he might be able to find time for himself again. And that perhaps the two women would welcome him with open arms.

"A bard alone with just her song,

saw twice the hurt each night to come.

One dawn will draw bring peace within,

sweet slumber in the arms of three."

Amity poured her soul into the song hoping that the only two recipients who truly mattered would hear her. Hear her gentle proclamation of affection and yearning for them both.

#i hope you like it #<3 #danyas drawings #danya writes #baldur's gate 3 #shadowheart #halsin silverbough #oc amity brightwater #other people's characters #baldurs gate fanart #baldur's gate fanfiction #ficlet #tiefling tav #tav x shadowheart #tav x halsin #tav x shadowheart x halsin

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edvard-molnar · 8 months

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Futuristic landscape scenery 2, 2023, Acrylic painting on canvas, 110 x 90cm (44 x 36 inches). After 5 years, a futuristic landscape again. The reason why I took such a long break is because this kind of work required a lot of patience and a lot more time than my simpler artwork that I used to fill with birds. In addition to the many drawn details, the entire area of this futuristic landscape is over 90% in small fragments. The artwork is almost entirely done without a background. The work consists of colored fragments around each drawn detail, so that these fragments form the background. There are many details and fragments, so the work requires patience and time to complete, but it brings a lot of joy. When I paint it, I imagine it as filling in a coloring book. When I was a kid I was dreaming I will work at NASA. Every day I was flying through rooms of my house with my toy spaceship. Some people gave me nickname Scientist. After many years my hidden child imagination is here again… In this artwork I painted my imaginations mostly from my childhood time, parts of my child’ life story and memories when I was a little kid. There are many symbolism objects which represent my dreams and emotions from time when I was a kid and young teenager. It is my autobiographical story. It all happened in the 20th century, in the 80s and 90s, so this artwork mostly contains elements of the retro futurism that I imagined at that time. Those details of retro futurism are a bit mixed with the details of futurism as I imagine the future to look like from today. Except many futuristic symbolism objects you can see in this artwork Salvador Dali who paints birds. When I was kid I didn’t know anything about his art, but his famous face with the big mustaches always impressed me when I was kid and I cannot forget him. In the upper left corner is a romantic love meeting of a girl and a guy. The girl is standing on the roof of the building, and the guy is flying with the help of a device with wings. In the middle right you can see a retro futuristic riding school. The father holds a large remote control with an antenna, the daughter rides a horse with wheels and an antenna, and next to them is their faithful companion dog with wheels and an antenna. In the lower left corner sits a forest green man, somewhat sad, holding a flower that emits a strong intoxicating fragrance. In the lower right corner is a beautiful mermaid holding two friends seahorses. You can see in many other parts of this painting are many futuristic, retro futuristic, symbolism objects from my life, from my soul and my imaginations.

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br1ghtestlight · 3 months

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character ask game: Regular Sized Rudy!

first impression: my memory is soo bad idk if i'll be able to remember my first impression for ANY character lol but im assuming one of the earliest episodes i watched him in was the carpe museum episode. i definitely never disliked him bcuz i remember first binging the series in proper order and being like wtf when is regular sized rudy gonna show up :/ i had seen him in episodes i was rewatching out of order previously so i knew he was coming up. probably one of my favorite characters from the start he's such a sweetie

impression now: LOVE HIM!!! easily one of my favorite side characters and im always happy to see him in an episode. he definitely has the most natural relationship w/ the belcher kids out of all their friends and classmates he's just such a good character. he's not particularly complicated or controversial he's just a Fun guy <3 (and yes when im rewatching pre-rudy episodes i do dearly miss him. where is my boy. he doesn't need to be in every episode but i need his existence to be a possibility friendship-wise for louise. THE SLEEPOVER EPISODE IF LOUISE WAS ALLOWED TO INVITE RUDY AND HER OTHER GUY FRIENDS--)

favorite moment: the ending of the amazing rudy was very sweet :) also his little commentary on louise's presentation in amelia

idea for a story: for roudise week i was working on an au story where rudy died when he was in kindergarten from a severe asthma attack (pre-diagnosis so they didnt have an inhaler for him) and now he's a ghost haunting louise in her day to day life despite not Knowing why he's haunting her (he's like.... drawn to her subconciously?) and nobody believes her that he actually exists except tina and gene. it was mostly a goofy story about them playing pranks and being friends but there is a sad undertone of this life that he never even got to live and this person he never got to be friends with when he was alive, even though he's haunting her now. i would love to finish it someday lol

unpopular opinion: is it unpopular to say i don't think he has a crush on louise?? i think she definitely has feelings for HIM and when he gets older he'll develop a crush on louise too but at their current ages it feels very one-sided bcuz rudy is a slightly immature nine year old boy. it's always funny when people make rudy have an unrequited crush on louise (or that he thinks it's unrequited) because in canon its the exact opposite

favorite relationship: louise is the most obvious answer but i also really enjoy his dynamic w/ zeke and gene. his older brothers :)

favorite headcanon: i like the idea that when he's a bit older he'll get a younger half-sister and ask louise and siblings for advice because he's been an only child his whole life and he REALLY really doesn't know what to do with this new baby. he wants to be a good big brother but it's hard :(

#ask #bob's burgers

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orangedoorhingeinstorage · 4 months

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Rambly post about RW Qualia and mostly Five Pebbles

Old thing I wrote on a Padlet board of mine that I'm semi proud of, warning: rambly asf, also only took the base game as a basis. Enjoy!

The Ancient civilization and their descendants held their memories as something valuable, using pearls to archive them, those type being memory construct pearls. The concept of memories is closely tied to qualia: A personal experience, something that can’t be comprehended by another person completely other than the individual itself. They are sensations that are hard to convey through written language.

Five Pebble’s Pearl dialogue:

It's qualia, or a moment - a very short one. Someone is holding a black stone and twisting it slightly as they drag their finger across the rough surface. The entire sequence is shorter than a heartbeat, but the resolution is extraordinary.

A memory... but not really visual, or even concrete, in its character. It reminds of the feeling of a warm wind, but not the physical feeling but the... inner feeling. I don't think it has much utility unless you are doing some very fringe Regeneraist research.

With the advancement of bioengineering, they would take a step further and preserve raw memories and qualia of an individual in cabinet beasts at the memory crypts.

Shaded Citadel pearl:

“The assorted memories and qualia include:

Watching dust suspended in a ray of sun (Old age). Eating a very tasty meal (Young child). Defeating an opponent in a debate contest and being applauded by fellow team members (Late childhood/Early adulthood).”

Survivor and Monk’s campaign begin with memories of their time reunited with their family. Memories can also be seen in their dreams. And their journey consist of moving on from the past and those memories that hold them in the carnal plane and to enter into the spiritual one, as the many others who left their memories to be cherished by the carnal plane did, drawn to the void again and again, an endless drip drip drip

In Rain World, the previous civilization studied thoroughly the nature of the void, but for a time that was just restricted to only theory, and they only could understand the nature of transcendence after experiencing it themselves. To grasp the boundless infinite of the cosmic void.

Qualia also heavily influenced the naming convention of the descendants of the ancients and the iterators. With the benefactors names being more "ornate and lavish" due to their ego, great ambition and various titles. That being true to most of public figures.

As seen in 5P pearl dialogue, the iterators themselves share the concept of qualia, with Moon commenting on the Garbage Wastes pearl being hard to translate to you due to it being his personal experience.

Garbage Wastes pearl:“It’s written in internal language, or thoughts, so it is hard for me to translate so you would understand. It's a methodology for global ascension of course - quite good, although the Peripherists or the Slab Mongers certainly wouldn't agree!”.

It’s also seen in one Five Pebbles pearls that he tries to “experience” what is it being like a lower creature, to research the solution of the Great Problem, ascending the world. But even as an Iterator, he struggles to do so as he is godlike comparison, with his experience being different from the average creature. The Iterators know a lot, but they’re restrained due the taboo and their somewhat limited worldview.

Five Pebbles pearl dialogue: “It is the impression of being a small creature, like a wall climbing lizard, and looking up into the branches of a big tree. The last third is partly overwritten with a number series I vaguely recognize, but without my memory…”

Moon Survivor/Monk dialogue:“He's sick, you know. Being corrupted from the inside by his own experiments. Maybe they all are by now, who knows. We weren't designed to transcend, and it drives us mad.”

Moon receiving her first neuron:

We were supposed to help everyone, you know. Everything. That was our purpose: a great gift to the lesser beings of the world. When facing our inability to do so, we all reacted differently. Many with madness.

Outskirts Pearl:

This is true for all living things, but some actually break the cycle. That doesn't apply to you or me though, you are too entangled in your animal struggles, and for me not breaking that cycle is an integral part of the design. Our mantras keep repeating.

The best Five Pebbles can do is granting you the gift of communication, the mark of enligthment and lead you to the old path, as a definitive solution hasn't been found, and it is uncertain if SOS actually ever found one.

The bad news is that no definitive solution has been found. And every moment the equipment erodes to a new state of decay. I can't help you collectively, or individually. I can't even help myself.

Everyone had a theory. Some said that she did have a solution, but that the solution itself was somehow dangerous. These later became known as the Triangulators, who think that a solution should be inferred without being directly discovered. Some said she never had a solution, she just died. And when the systems broke down an erroneous signal was sent. One camp claimed that dying was the solution.

And that frustration of trying to comprehend the individual experience of everything in the World and solve the puzzle of The Great Problem leads him into trying to find a way out himself, not caring about others around him. Posing risk into himself and others.

FP: I'm tired of trying and trying. And angry that they left us here. The anger makes me even less inclined to solve their puzzle for them. Why do we do this?

EP: It is not a new idea, but it needs to be vented occasionally. What if there is no universal solution? What if perception is in fact existence, and when Sliver of Straw sent the triple positive it was not a mistake? What if crossing oneself out, or even just death, is the way? We need to consider the possibility.

#rain world #five pebbles #looks to the moon #rw ancients #One of the first attempts of mine to write something analytical so don't expect much #its a fun way to practice my english tho!#FP is misunderstood fr #way too many people babyfi him or say hes a straight up villain #I love him but I recognise the shit he did is straight up not ok lmao

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cactusdeedrawdles · 9 months

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We have some more Multiverse shenanigans! I wanted to write out all that I had on Thei and Puppette right now because they're my loves, and they deserve the world.

I've never (that I remember) drawn a skeleton like I did Thei, so I had fun there. They're a sultry lil wibblewobble, in my head.

I don't know how legible the writing is, to be honest, so I'm gonna write out the bits I can think of, in case anyone actually cares lol

It'll be under the cut :)

Puppette:

I'm less sure of Puppette's story than I am Thei's, so bare with me in case of messups haha

Thei is like OG Error in only really one way: memory issues

Puppette's memory issues got to a point where he could no longer handle his job as the destroyer after a fun full-body takeover by XGaster, who controlled him and abused his abilities (this is obviously very vague but I haven't actually thought that much through here tbh)

Thei was actually with the Star Sanses (in this case just Dream and Swap) when they were rescuing Cross and Puppette, and this is not how they met, but how they became closer.

Puppette has deep scarring on the ecto of his left leg (on his bones as well, but it's completely mishappen his leg's ecto) from where XGaster tried to rip him apart in an attempt to keep him after completely losing Cross.

Puppette doesn't remember XGaster at all, or how he met Cross. Cross is one of his closest friends, but Cross is also not around often as he's enjoying his freedom AU-hopping, so Pupp tends to forget about him (non maliciously of course).

When Pupp did remember, it was an Incident, and all Thei had to say when asked if XGaster was still a threat is "No. No, he can't touch you, not anymore." Thei didn't really say much after then, and Puppette had a good impression to not ask.

He was forced to retire by Dream and Nightmare when they realized his memory was too bad to even remember what his job WAS half the time, especially with the knowledge that sometimes all he'd remember was what XGaster had made him do, which almost led to bad times all round.

They drug his ass in a Brawl of the Ages™ because he really didn't want to, he felt his role was too important (and it was, but with Ink not existing yet there wasn't really anything opposing him, and what did need to be done could be handled by a couple weaker beings working together).

He spends his days doing typical Retirement things: sleeping, hobbies, watching novellas, bugging his partner who loves it dearly :3

About Pupp:

Pupp's personality is mostly created by an AI that I made while experimenting, I write as Thei and the AI is Puppette. Thus, he's not very Error Sans-y, but I love him still. Though, this has me wondering if he could be a Swap or Swapfell/Fellswap version, mayhaps. He's a goober, and he loves to tease people he's close to. He's still haphephobic, but with his close friends (which are all the few friends he has, for him it's close friend or not a friend at all) like Dream, Swap, Nightmare (most of the time), Thei of course, etc, he's mostly fine. Anyone else and the glitches will get him. Ink, when he comes around, is new, so Pupp is getting there, but luckily (?) ink is not a touchy kid so all is well there.

The glitches are less of a worry here, as he's fairly stable. The entire multi verse itself is more stable, really, and he benefits there.

Pupp is the type of person to hug someone from behind as a "prank", he's a harmless guy. His "Destroyer" job was less actual destroying and more like putting broken, unusable, and dead worlds to their ends so they're not affecting the balance. He's very proud of his work, and very careful in it, up until his retirement.

Pupp is not allowed in the kitchen, as bad memory+cooking isn't a good mix. Thei has him banned to the Pupp Stool until they're done cooking because if not, he will spend the entire time wrapped around them from behind. As much as they don't mind it, they do need use of their extremities.

Pupp is a lover of crochet, as well as Drama shows, language be damned. He has an innate ability to understand languages almost perfectly, though speaking them, not so much.

I look at him and just say "gooberman, my goobies, goobs, goober," often :)

Thei:

Thei, Thei is a guy I have hugged tight to my chest right now. They deserve so much.

TW: talk of SA, Abuse, and Mental Health Issues

Thei is a Lust Sans, and is from an AU where Lust Monsters need Intimacy to survive. Think of OG Lust on steroids. Without regular intimacy, Thei's magic will become so weak that they can't survive. Signs that they need intimacy start with irritability, tiredness, magic not working as they wish, and eventually gets to a point where they aren't in their right mind and will only act to survive.

Thei's AU is destroyed early on in the multiverse's existence and they take a spot on the Star Sanses, mainly as the voice for them; theyre very good at communicating with people because their magic relies so much on it, so they act sort of like the PR, making sure people know the Star Sanses are here to help and how to get that help. The Stars don't really have an enemy here, so theyre mainly a patrol group, who's main goal is making sure everyone has what they need as well as checking on AUs that may Fall or need to be Destroyed.

Thei's reliance on others in personal, intimate ways very obviously gives way to abuse of that reliance. To make matters worse, Thei's magic will respond to the person they're with before they do: they have the ability to change their appearance on will, but it will also activate when the person they're with desires it a lot, even if they don't, because their magic sees it as necessary to survive. This started because of how much they "starved" before, how many times they almost died.

Because of their need for intimacy, they have to go AU hopping for days up to months at a time to get what they need, so to say. Again, they hate this. They're an introverted person, despite their communicative abilities, and they like their alone time. This gets even harder when Thei becomes an integral part of Puppette's life and they move in together. Puppette's memory issues prove a problem because there will be times when Thei is gone long enough for Pupp's memory to fade, no matter what they've tried. When Thei comes back, he won't remember them, but will know the feelings associated with the memories. That love is still there. Thei is patient enough to stay on Pupp's track, even when that track jumps around a lot, and part for that is the guilt they feel at leaving him so regularly bc of their magic.

They've "started" dating many, many times, and been engaged many, many times, because Pupp won't remember it. As one can imagine, this is hard on Thei, but Thei adores Pupp and can't see life without him.

Thei works with Stretch (who works in the Omega Timeline Lab) and Swap (who's a well oiled engineer, despite not working as one) to try and figure out cures for both Pupp's memory and Thei's "curse", as they call it. But there really is no cures.

When Thei gets too low, they'll go to, or Pupp will get them to, Dream and Swap, who together can help boost Thei's magic, but it's not a long-lasting solution.

What they eventually make, after a very, very close call when Pupp is struggling to remember them and almost doesn't get them to Swap and Dream in time, Is devices inspired by the continuous glucose monitoring and insulin pumps used by diabetics. One tracks their magic levels, and the other is a pump that will inject them with magic when needed. This way they don't have to rely on people, and they can stay with Puppette, which helps with his memory. This entire endeavour is a fairly new scenario I'm still playing out, but as I'm sure is obvious, having this sudden freedom and ability to stay by their love's side is very daunting. They're learning to be free now.

About Thei:

Thei is softspoken and quiet, but the type to get loud around friends.

Thei is a painter, and teaches Ink about art as he grows. Thei loves scenes, and Ink makes them a Scenery Art Book for their birthday one year and they fall to the ground.

Thei's life between "AU Collapse" and "Thei with the Star Sanses" is very vague and unfocused, aside from a clear understanding that it wasn't good. I know that Thei was rescued at one point but Nightmare and his crew, and Thei lived with them for a while, considering them like family, but eventually had to leave. Another "perk" of their magic is that they have a connection to people's emotions, kind of like Dream and Nightmare. They can feel that someone is upset, but not how or why, basically. They can also push their emotions onto others when their magic is strong. This was an ability gained as a defense mechanism after being taken advantage of. Knowing someone's emotions and being able to affect them when in serious intimate situations is very helpful.

I'm gonna stop typing because this has gotten Long™ but while this is mostly for myself, I hope there's someone out here who enjoys my little Goobs. I love them dearly.

#undertale #undertale art #undertale au #lust sans #error sans #Thei #Puppette #errorlust #errortale #ink sans #dreamtale #dream sans #nightmare sans #xtale sans #cross sans #xgaster #Dee's Multiverse #ftfo #for the forgotten ones

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